i hate snow!
by icanhascamaro
Summary: Sunstreaker can't wait for Ironhide's return. Too bad Sunstreaker got separated from the others on the way to get him. Stuck on someone's front lawn, Sunstreaker might end up needing help from a human. Did I forget to mention it's snowing? Did you know that snow and a Lamborghini don't mix very well? Sunstreaker is about to find that out the hard way. Continued from Shifting Sands.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Plows an'at

I hate snow!

by icanhascamaro

* * *

**AN**: Hi, everyone. This isn't a new chapter of _Shifting Sands_, kind of obvious there, I know. I'd like to welcome you to Sunstreaker's story, aka his POV (but in third person) of things after _Shifting Sands_, from LA to Pittsburgh and everything that happens in Pittsburgh.

Yeah, I know it's a little early to be thinking about snow, but here it is, a story with snow in it. I'd actually had this story written (ie: completed) a long time before I wrote _Shifting Sands_ (honestly, probably about a year or two), but I wanted something to lead into this story. That might be why _Shifting Sands_ was only five chapters long. And seriously? I'm _never_ writing another story through Sam's pov. Those of you who can write a story like that, like the marvelous Botosphere, well done. I applaud you wholeheartedly. You're _awesome!_ ((write moar plz!))

Also, I _may_ have forgotten to mention when _Shifting Sands_ takes place. Bad icanhascamaro! T'would be in February, three years after DotM. _i hate snow _is in the same month, just six or so hours later than _Shifting Sands_.

I had fun writing this, so I hope you'll all enjoy reading it!

**Continuity**: As with _Shifting Sands_, this is set after DotM and will _**not**_ follow the travesty that is AoE. AoE? What's that?

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Transformers, or any name brands/actual places/locations located herin. They belong solely to their owners.

**Warnings**: A squishy cusses at Sunstreaker, but other than that, there's nothing bad save for Sunstreaker being veeeeeery frustrated (and that's kind of more amusing than anything, right?).

Go, read, enjoy!

* * *

**Location: Pittsburgh, PA – The Pittsburgh 911th Airlift Wing**

**Time: 11:44 pm**

Other than Bumblebee's squishy causing a slight (and highly amusing, though Sunstreaker would never admit to it) uproar, the flight itself was unremarkable, in Sunstreaker's opinion, from take-off to actual travel time to landing. There had been roughly five hours of recharge mixed with planning and preparing, though most of that boring pre-mission slag had taken place between the Prime and Squishy Lennox.

Unloading had been done after the C-17 had taxied into a large hangar located at the 911th airlift wing base…whatever. It felt like weeks that he'd made planetfall, but it wasn't a few hours prior, and he had swiftly downloaded as much information as he needed to make sense of this odd, dirty, over climatized planet that his twin seemed to enjoy so much.

The 911th base area was adjacent to a complex that the squishies, er…humans, commonly called an airport. The Greater Pittsburgh International Airport, to be precise. The two areas, civilian and military, shared a large expanse of land that constituted the…

_Oh, to __the__ **Pit** with this_, Sunstreaker growled to himself. _All I want to do is go, get the organic to Ironhide, and and have it do whatever it has to in order to bring that slagger back from the Well._

To say that Sunstreaker had been shocked when his twin had told him of Ironhide's death would be an understatement.

* * *

"_**What**_?!" Sunstreaker had bellowed. "No way, Sides, no slagging way!"

"Well, it's true," Sideswipe had replied as evenly as he could. "Sentinel Prime shot him in the back with his cosmic rust cannon. 'Hide didn't have a chance to defend himself or to retaliate."

"A Prime…" Sunstreaker had shaken his head at that. "How…"

"It took us all by surprise," Sideswipe had said softly. "Optimus as much as any of us."

"Especially Ironhide," Sunstreaker shot back sarcastically, which was an emotion his twin seemed to somehow miss from his voice.

"Yeah," Sideswipe had cocked his head to the side. "You know, your alt mode isn't bad, but if you wanted to match you could use mine."

"NO!" Sunstreaker had pinned his twin with a vicious glare. "To the Pit with your alt, Sides. And anyway, I like the one I scanned."

"But Sunny! We could match!" Sideswipe was relentless and cajoling. Two things Sunstreaker wasn't in the mood for. "And it's really fun to skate around on wheels when you're not in alt mode. You've gotta try it."

"Do NOT call me that! And skating?" Sunstreaker had shuddered a bit. He had looked it up and was disgusted because skating was a favored human pastime. "Not a chance I'm going to mimic a human, 'Sides."

"It's fun!" Sideswipe had defended his speed-skating choice. "And it's not that bad."

"Yes, it really is," Sunstreaker had replied, even as he had searched the humans' internet for a suitable form. "Your vehicle choice isn't bad as an alt, but there's not a chance in the Pit that I'm going to mimic a human-based activity."

Sideswipe had sighed, but had to, very reluctantly, acquiesce. "Okay, so yours is a better alt form…but I didn't have too much of a choice, Sunny! I had to do with what was at hand at the time!"

"Call me Sunny one more time and I'll make you very sorry."

* * *

"Speedskater, my aft," Sunstreaker muttered and continued to glare at his surroundings. He was in his alt mode, a very golden colored Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera, and peeking out of the open hangar bay door. Even though the temperature wasn't too bad (he'd faced much worse on other planets), the gloomy grey and white that he saw was a very sharp contrast to the blue skies he'd left behind in California. How was it possible to have two extremes of weather in the same hemisphere? Earth was a strange planet.

"It is not too late for you to excuse yourself from this mission." Optimus Prime's voice came both from above and beside him. "This planet's weather can be…difficult…at times."

His scanners showed him that Optimus was towering over him in his mech form. Not intimidated in the least, Sunstreaker grunted in reply and busied himself with trying to fine-tune his scanners to adapt to the precipitation falling from the fat, low hanging clouds. "What is this…_weather_…called."

"Snow." Optimus glanced down at Sunstreaker's exotic vehicle mode. "I do not think that your choice of alt mode will be suitable to the current weather."

"I'll be the judge of that, Prime." Sunstreaker snorted. "Besides, if Bumblebee can handle it in his low slung alt, then I can surely deal with it in mine."

"Very well," Optimus vented softly. "Before we leave there will be a meeting. Be ready for it."

As his leader strode away to speak with Ratchet and Squishy Lennox, the golden mech paid attention to the thoughts running through his processors. The was a mix of reasons for why he wanted to be here to do this mission, even though all he wanted to do was be with his twin. It was for both Ironhide and his own pride that he chose to go with the rescue mission. He had reviewed the data that his twin had sent him, which spanned from Sideswipe's own arrival to Earth, to the incident in Shanghai with Sideways, all the way through the final battle in Chicago and some of the reconstructing of that city. It made Sunstreaker realize that Sideswipe had been a very busy mech. His twin had supported the Prime in every way that he could, while Sunstreaker had been traveling through space, fully locked on the signal that Optimus had sent out into the stars.

Traveling through space hadn't been as easy as it sounded. It provided its own set of troubles, as it was wont to do. If it weren't for the skirmishes with Cons he came across – and of course he kicked aft – there were always the natural hindrances provided by the black void of the galaxies.

Sunstreaker had not had a lot of choice with the speed of his space traveling, but he did have control over what he did once he landed on this planet. And what he was going to do was to assist his Prime with restoring life to one of the few mechs that Sunstreaker so highly respected.

Granted a lot of the respect that he had shown to the large black mech had revolved around a lot of pranks generated by himself and his twin, but…it had very much disturbed the golden mech in the manner by which Ironhide had died. It was a cheap shot that Sentinel had taken and, if he had dared to face Ironhide in a fair fight, there was no doubt in Sunstreaker's processors that Sentinel would have been the one to die.

The traitorous Prime would have died slowly and painfully.

But he hadn't fought fairly and Ironhide had offlined.

Sideswipe had provided him with a large data packet that contained all the information he needed to be up to date on Sentinel's betrayal. There had been one video clip in particular that had stuck with Sunstreaker. It was the moment when Ironhide's head had fallen from the rest of his frame…how the optics were still lit with brilliant blue.

Ironhide had still been alive, _conscious_, at that moment.

For that alone, Sunstreaker would gladly revive Sentinel so that he could send the traitorous Prime to the deepest level of the Pit with his own cosmic rust cannon.

_:Hey, Sunny…:_

Sunstreaker froze and his engine revved a bit in anger. He was both pissed at the nickname and that he'd been caught unaware. He prided himself on being very in control and he'd been startled by his twin's impromptu communication. Despite the fact that he had been missing his twin, he absolutely hated that slagging nickname :_Be very glad you are in California, brother, and that several thousand miles separate us.:_

_:Aww, and here I just wanted to wish you luck, bro!:_

:_You may still do that,:_ Sunstreaker would've grinned smugly if he could have. However, Lamborghinis did not have that sort of capacity for emotional display.

_:Yeah, because I heard it__'__s snowing out there and your alt mode…:_

:_Is better than yours,:_ Sunstreaker interrupted his twin. :_Yes, I know that it is snowing, Sides, and I__'__ll be fine. It can__'__t be that bad.:_

:_Okay_,: Sideswipe replied in a doubtful tone, and feelings of unease swept through their link.

_:Have a little faith in me, Sides. I wasn__'__t sparked yesterday.:_

_:No, but you haven__'__t experienced weather like this either.:_

_:Not in a while, I admit.:_

:_Not like __**this**_,: Sideswipe was adamant, almost forceful. :_Not in that kind of an alt mode and not with this kind of weather, and not with humans all around you! You just got here. I don__'__t want to lose you too soon, and not to slagging snow!:_

For an astrosecond, Sunstreaker almost felt as uneasy as Sideswipe did, but he forced it away and sent just how confident he felt over the link to his twin. :_I'll be fine. Stop being such a femme_.:

:_If you say so, bro_,: Sideswipe sounded less worried, but still uneasy. :_Keep in touch with me_.:

_:Like I have a choice?:_

_:No!:_

Sunstreaker sighed through his vents. :_You know I wouldn__'__t shut you out unless it was necessary. And this trip won__'__t have __**anything**__ necessary like that. This is going to be an easy mission, Sideswipe. Just trust me.:_

:_I trust you_,: Sideswipe also sighed. :_Sideswipe, out.:_

It wasn't necessary for his twin to do so, which surprised Sunstreaker but the formalities were there and he replied in kind. :_Sunstreaker, out._:

Though he was, in truth, very excited and happy to be with his twin again, he was also equally as elated to be aiding his Prime in such an important mission. The four mechs involved were himself, Prime, Ratchet, and Bumblebee.

Also along was the human responsible for killing Megatron the first time. Though to Sunstreaker the human seemed to barely be out of a youngling age, Sam Witwicky had declared himself ready and willing to help bring Ironhide back from the Well. Apparently the human somehow had a tie to the ancient Primes, and it was _**Primus**_' request that Sam Witwicky was to go on this mission in the first place. That the ancient Primes were Primus' messengers to Sam Witwicky flabbergasted Sunstreaker.

And of the billions of squishies on this planet, Sam Witwicky had been the one who had found the Matrix of Leadership, which in turn had brought Optimus back from the Well when he was killed by Megatron (who had been revived by a shard of the Allspark), though first Sam Witwicky had to die in order to see and apparently be accepted by the ancient Primes and…

It was enough to make Sunstreaker's processors freeze up, so he stopped mulling over the information.

"You ready, Sunstreaker?" Bumblebee, also in his alt mode, was pulling up next to Sunstreaker. His human charge, Sam, was sleeping in the driver's seat of said alt mode, with his head leaning against the window.

Sunstreaker stared at the Camaro. "I think your organic is drooling on your window."

"Er…"

"Ratchet did nice work on your voice box," Sunstreaker said blithely. "It's definitely an improvement from you using radio clips." That information had also been in the data pack.

"Thanks, I guess," the yellow bot seemed perplexed. "Optimus said it's time for the briefing. So…you ready?"

"More than ready," Sunstreaker said smugly. "I've been ready since we got on that plane."

* * *

"So to repeat," Major Will Lennox stood in front of the four mechs. "We drive with care on the roads. Make sure to not run anyone off the road. It's not snowing yet but weather reports sent to me have said that it had been doing so earlier. It's very likely that there will be humans out there driving in non-sentient vehicles. Their response time is not as good as yours…" and this was directed mostly at Sunstreaker, since he was new to the planet, and had nothing – swear to Primus – with how much the other Autobots knew how much he loved to speed. "…so please take care to remember that. We will drive on I-376, heading east along 376 after leaving the Fort Pitt Tunnel, until we get to exit 74, proceed through a residential neighborhood, over the Homestead Grey's bridge…"

"And through the woods to grandmother's house we go…" The singsong voice that interrupted Lennox faded away abruptly.

Every mech, as all four were in mech mode, plus Lennox, turned to stare at Sam, who had been sitting on Bumblebee's right shoulder.

"Uh…" Sam's face reddened. "So, you were saying…"

Lennox rolled his eyes. "We will drive over the bridge and into a shopping area known as the Waterfront."

"I'm guessing the shopping isn't what we flew several thousand miles for, right?" Sam had spoken up yet again, though he seemed a bit baffled. "I mean, it's not like we're gonna drop in to the local Target and pick up Ironhide in the toy section."

Since Lennox looked torn between exasperation and anger, Optimus spoke up to diffuse the situation.

"I can understand your confusion, Sam," the Prime said in a steady voice. "If all of you have reviewed your data packs, or printouts for the humans, you will recall that the shopping area was not always there. A huge steel mill complex had been on that land for many decades."

A still confused Sam had another question, "Okay, but what does that have to do with Ironhide?"

"Although our Cybertronian metals are far superior to human made steel, this area – indeed this whole city – has worked a great deal with metal in its history," Ratchet said. "I could only guess that Primus has a sense of humor."

"Uh-huh," Sam shrugged. "I guess so."

"The biggest issue is going to be the snow," Lennox said. "Optimus has told me that your sensors and scanners are able to weed through the snow so that you can set a direct course for the coordinates that Sam was sent from the Primes." He then nodded to the large red and blue mech. "I'll be riding with you, Optimus, and Ratchet will follow with Sunstreaker. You still want Bee to scout out first with Sam?"

"Given the weather, I do not think we should separate…"

"Optimus! C'mon, you can't back out now!" Sam almost stood up on Bumblebee's shoulder, but as he lacked the coordination to do so, he remained sitting. "The faster that we get to the Waterfront, and to Ironhide, the faster we can get home where it's a lot warmer than this."

Though he was dressed in winter weather clothes, including a very thick parka, he was still shivering. The whiteness of the bandaging on the side of his temple stood out against his tanned skin like a smudge of snow.

"Very true, Sam, but as I have the Matrix," There was a very slight tinge of smugness to Optimus' voice, "you cannot do anything until I get there."

Sam let out a frustrated sound. "Fine! But let's get going, okay? Too much talking, not enough driving!"

"You heard Primus' middle man," Sunstreaker smirked. "Let's get going."

* * *

Of course, the going part was easier said than done.

Prime and Ratchet took the lead, with Bumblebee in the middle, and Sunstreaker taking up the rear. The snow wasn't too bad as of yet, maybe an inch at the most, but general consensus ruled that the two largest mechs' alt forms would act as spur-of-the-moment snow plows, if needed. Even though a lot of the snow was slush on the black top, there would doubtlessly be areas where the snow would accumulate. As such, Sunstreaker modified his tires so that they felt to him that they gained more traction on the slick roadway.

He had ignored the memo in the mission's datapack, the one that had recommended snow tires specific to each mech's alt mode, which had been provided by squishies on Squishy Lennox's team. Sunstreaker didn't need help from any human, and certainly not a team of humans, because he knew all there was to know about tires. His alt was a car, wasn't it? The chances of a _human_ knowing more about tires than Sunstreaker, than_ any_ mech, was absolutely ridiculous.

After driving along a winding highway (and for some reason, residents of this city called it a parkway – wouldn't calling it a driveway be more accurate? Or was there a lot of parking done here? Sunstreaker decided he just wasn't going to bother sorting that out.), they descended a gracefully sloping section that lead to a tunnel. Though the tunnel was brightly lit, the ceiling was quite low.

_:You gonna fit, Boss Bot?:_ Sunstreaker asked in a darkly humorous tone.

_:Just fine, Sunstreaker, thank you for inquiring,:_ and though the Prime's voice was equally as amused, the cab and trailer (the latter was brought along just in case they needed to transport a discombobulated Ironhide) had about an inch of clearance.

As the vehicles sped through the tunnel, they realized that there were not many vehicles on the road with them. A pair of cars were ahead of them, as Optimus and Ratchet stuck to the right lane and Bee and Sunstreaker were in the left, along with a lone set of headlights that were behind them. A quick scan indicated they were human driven vehicles.

As they drove out of the tunnel, he heard Sam speaking through the comm link that Bumblebee had left open.

_:Wow! That is some view! Uh, even with all the snow.:_

As Sunstreaker left the tunnel, he saw what the others had seen. The city of Pittsburgh seemed to unfold before their optics. Glittering golden streetlights shimmered through the softly falling snow, and the river beneath the bridge they were on looked like black velvet.

_:This city is known as the Steel City,:_ Ratchet said through the comm link. _:It__'__s also known as the City of Bridges because it has more bridges than any other city in the United States, along with three more bridges than the Italian city of Venice, which had historically held that title.:_

_:Very nice, Ratchet,: _Sunstreaker said in a bored tone_. :Do you have any information on how to deal with this fragging snow? Is it going to let up any time soon?:_

_:You have radar, Sunstreaker, feel free to use it __**and**__ the connection you have to the humans__' __internet.:_

_:Slagger,:_ The Lamborghini snarled as his back end slid out a bit as they rounded a slight turn on a descending ramp. The insult was directed to Ratchet and the snow and the road. Said road had signs that indicated the parkway would lead to a place called Monroeville.

_:Enough chatting, ladies,:_ Lennox's voice came over Optimus' comm link_. :Keep your scanners on the road. We__'__ll follow this highway for approximately four minutes, weather and road conditions permitting__. Then we__'__ll take an exit and drive through a residential area. It__'__s a bit of a confusing turn, so keep your optics open!:_

And it was all so simple, really it was. Despite the snow falling all over the slagging place, getting into open vents and landing in the engine bay, and despite the slush spinning up into his undercarriage, Sunstreaker figured this was going to be easier than he'd expected. Sure there were a few more vehicles driving around them, piloted by snow savvy humans, but it was easy keeping his scanners on his fellow mechs.

But the snow, the slagging freezing cold snow! Yes, space was a lot colder, but his cometary form had shielded against much of it. This snow was simply revolting.

The pavement wasn't too bad yet, despite the slush, but the cold creepy feeling of said slush hitting his undercarriage was….it was _disgusting_. He had, of course, dealt with things as disgusting, or even worse, than slush (which brought up memories of the harmless, but gross, slug creatures on Alpha Sigma Three). It was just that it was so annoying, and Sunstreaker was already annoyed to the tip of his helm. He wanted this to be a swift mission, and he was good at being fast.

It was then when Sunstreaker noticed that the snow was starting to fall a little heavier, a little thicker.

_Not really that big of a deal,_ Sunstreaker thought to himself. _I__'__ll just follow one of the others and let them lead me. I could follow Bumblebee, but he__'__s driving cautiously due to his squishy. Can__'__t see slag around Optimus__' __big aft, so I__'__ll stick with Ratchet. Safest place to be is behind the medic._

Or so he thought.

* * *

_:Get ready, guys, exit 74 is just up ahead,:_ Lennox's voice came over the comm_. :We__'__re about to get off this road for the next, which will lead us a short distance through a residential area. The exit curves a bit, so be prepared for that.:_

Sunstreaker would've loved to have offered up a retort to the squishy, but he was a bit preoccupied with his scanners. The snow, which was falling a lot heavier now than it was two minutes ago, was almost at white-out conditions. His scanners were fragged to the Pits and he was relying on following Ratchet's taillights, which lit up every now and then.

Just a minute ago he thought he'd seen the medic's taillights swerve to the left, then to the right, but he'd not heard a complaint from Ratchet, so he stayed silent himself.

All he could see, other than Ratchet's red taillights, was the white of the Pit bound snow!

Suddenly Ratchet veered to the right, and as Sunstreaker followed he had to slow down even more. His rear slid out again, which caused the Lambo to growl to himself. He hadn't expected the exit to be so extreme!

He swore viciously as he felt first the left and then the right side of his rear bumper scrape against what had to be a pair of guard rails.

_:You..kay..ack..ere, Sun…eaker?:_

_:Bumblebee? What did you say?:_ For some reason, Sunstreaker could barely make out what Bee was saying over his comm. His reply had come out harsher than he had intended, for once, and he felt a bit of apprehension when the yellow scout didn't respond to him.

_:Hey, Stumblebee,:_ Sunstreaker tried for the 'Piss 'em off till they respond' method_. :You hear me, or did your comm go out like your voice?:_

But the Camaro did not respond.

_:Fine, frag off, you slagger,:_ Sunstreaker snorted_. :I can do the silent treatment, too, you know.:_ He attempted to talk to Ratchet instead_. :I grace you guys with my presence, after vorns of not seeing the any of you, and this is what I get. Almost wish I__'__d been a little slower in space.:_

When Ratchet also ignored him, Sunstreaker felt his apprehension turn to irritation and then annoyance. _:Yeah, just go on and ignore me. When I__'__m the one to save Ironhide, by myself, you__'__ll be begging to kiss my aft.:_

The silence dragged on as Ratchet and the others led the way through the residential area, and it suited Sunstreaker to fume silently. Here and there, through the thick falling snow, Sunstreaker could just barely manage to catch glimpses of human homes, a gas station, and even an eatery called Pizza Hut. Sunstreaker could just barely see the green of a street light as they went through an intersection, then paused at a few stop signs.

A bit of doubt began to creep into Sunstreaker's processors as they began to climb a steep, and very snowy, street.

There hadn't been mention of a street that went up. Wasn't it one that went down? Down to a bridge?

_:Uh, Ratch, I think we might be going the wrong way:_ He broke off with a muttered curse as his tires suddenly spun and he went nowhere. The snow was beginning to be too thick, too deep, and for some slagging reason his tires weren't helping him.

He didn't know how far they'd gone up this steep fragging hill of a street, but suddenly he noticed that Ratchet's taillights were getting dimmer.

The Pit spawned fragger was leaving him!

_:Ratchet? RATCHET! Don__'__t __**leave**__ me!:_ Sunstreaker wailed as he fishtailed in the snowy street. His aft nearly clipped a car parked on the street_. :Optimus? Ratchet? BUMBLEBEE!:_

The howling of his tires was met with silence from his comm.

_:Squishies?:_

But neither the squishies nor his companions answered him and, to Sunstreaker's dawning horror, he realized that they were leaving him behind without even a word.

* * *

He was stuck.

Sunstreaker was stuck, in the slagging snow, sideways, on a residential street.

_**On. A. Hill.**_

It was fortunate, for him, that no one had come up or down the street, but he was still stuck.

He spun his tires forward and back.

He'd gunned his engine.

He'd made very, very little progress.

And yet his biggest fear was that some squishy driven vehicle would come down this street, that he couldn't see much of due to the still blinding snow storm, and crash right into him. No, he probably wouldn't sustain too much damage, as his body was formed of much tougher metal than a mere human created vehicle, but he could get scuffs on his finish.

Scuffs!

Sorrow filling his processors, Sunstreaker darkened the tint on his windows and prayed to Primus for a way out of this.

Safely and preferably with no damage to his finish.

_**Ten minutes later**__**…**_

A light was growing in what little his optical sensors could see. Brighter and brighter.

_:Is that you, Primus?:_

Sunstreaker's fuzzy processor was sharply sent into overdrive when he realized he was facing an oncoming plow.

One that was blaring its horn at him quite angrily.

"Move yer car, jagoff!" A male squishy was leaning out of the plow's driver's side window, shaking a fist angrily at Sunstreaker. "I can see yer damned engine's on, so I know yinz is in there! And if yinz don't move in three seconds, I'm gonna plow right through that pretty lil' bumper of yinz."

The squishy's words, odd as they were, put the fear of Unicron in Sunstreaker's spark.

NOT the bumper!

Tires shrieking in protest, Sunstreaker desperately pulled himself through the snow. If there had been a squishy at his wheel – as if that would EVER happen – they'd see the needle of his speedometer inching past the highest factory setting.

He must've done something right, because he was suddenly shifting over the snow to the right. Praying to Primus that there were no squishy vehicles in his way, because he did not need to scratch, scuff, or otherwise damage his paint, Sunstreaker felt himself propelled over a snow covered curb, over a sidewalk, and just barely missing a row of (quick Google search - which was somehow unaffected by his current predicament) hedges, a massive amount of snow forced him to rumble to a stop on someone's front lawn. He groaned at the cold feeling of snow that had been shoved up and under and into his engine bay, and couldn't help shuddering at the sensation.

"Nice parking, dumbfuck," the squishy laughed as the plow resumed its trek down the street. "Hope that's yer yard, otherwise yinz is up shit creek without a paddle an'at!"

The only thought in Sunstreaker's processor, other than trying to translate what the squishy was saying, was wondering how much trouble he'd be in with Prime if he transformed and blew up the plow and squishy with a nicely placed plasma shot.

* * *

The rumbling of a snow plow woke 29 year old Beth Galen from the sleep she was currently enjoying. She groggily looked over at the digital clock on her bedside table and let her eyes drift shut.

Quarter after midnight was way too early to be waking up.

For _anything_.

* * *

_Time passed... _

How much, Sunstreaker wasn't sure. His chronometer seemed to be on the fritz just like near about every slagging thing else. The time it told him simply couldn't be true, and so Sunstreaker felt he couldn't trust the fragging device.

As time passed, Sunstreaker pondered the multitude of thoughts running through his processor. One of which regarded how a mech saw around him while in alt form. Sam Witwicky had been confused about it, which was something else Sideswipe mentioned in the initial datapack, and it was something that Sunstreaker was most amused by. To be honest, it varied upon the mech in question. Sunstreaker himself could see through any number of scanners.

What Sunstreaker saw now worried him and made him question his sanity just a tad. A mech like Ratchet, or even Ironhide, would have to say that a mech would have to be sane in the first place to wonder about said sanity, and that Sunstreaker was lacking in sanity in great quantities. To which Sunstreaker would reply to frag off.

But right now, at this very moment? Sunstreaker was having a bit of an existential meltdown.

Why was he having an existential meltdown? Because to his right, parked on the driveway that Sunstreaker was partially on (as the left half of him was mostly "parked" on a snow covered lawn) was a tarp covered form that seemed somewhat familiar to his scanners.

By all rights, he knew that there was no way in the Pit that Bumblebee would be next to him and covered with a white tarp-like cover. A cover that was also covered in about an inch of snow. But what else could it be? It looked just like the yellow scout's alt mode, but there was no spark. There was no sign of life at all under the tarp.

The only scanners that Sunstreaker possessed that actually worked were the close proximity scanners. He had rerouted every fraction of spare power to these fully functioning scanners so as to get them to their most sensitive levels.

Yet when he did, the first thing they showed him was that the vehicle form under the tarp was indeed that of a Camaro.

It was a grey Camaro.

A grey Camaro with no spark.

Even though they were long lived, it wasn't rare for a Cybertronian to die. Obviously, as the war had made so painfully obvious to mechs like Jazz and Ironhide, and when they did die their metallic bodies usually took on a grey hue. So to see a grey vehicle like this…Sunstreaker could come to but one conclusion.

Bumblebee was dead.

Sunstreaker had come to this conclusion what felt like joors ago had, according to his fragged up chronometer, only been a couple of breems. Obviously the device was still malfunctioning. Once again, the golden mech scanned the cloaked form of his fellow warrior and felt a twinge of pity.

_Not even allowed the dignity to die in your Primus given form, _Sunstreaker thought morbidly.

The thought angered the golden mech. Yet even as the first flares of anger stirred in Sunstreaker, they did so sluggishly. The cold, the precipitation, and the Pit blasted loneliness he was suffering from pounded him as thoroughly as any training session with Ironhide.

_Frag it all!_ Sunstreaker thought furiously. Not only was he stuck in this backwater, Primus-forsaken city – certain to die as poor Bumblebee had – he wouldn't get to see the Witwicky human's plan in action.

Sunstreaker and Bumblebee. Two battle hardened mechs who had seen countless millennia of war, to be offlined by misery and snow and, well, _whatever_ had offlined Bumblebee.

To not offline in the heat of battle.

To never see his twin again.

Destined to die on a planet he'd only recently made planetfall on.

_**Unacceptable.**_

He was a warrior. He would not accept death from so simple a foe. He was a warrior sparked and he would offline as a warrior. Not as a mech who had been abandoned by his fellow Autobots. It irked him to Cybertron and back that they had left him. Fragging left him behind!

_No time for this slag, _Sunstreaker tried to focus his thoughts. _I need to figure out where I am and how to get away from here. Optimus needs me._

A quick scan of the human abode in front of him, which was a modest one story brick home in a style called a ranch (though the land surrounding it was in no way equal to that of any sort of animal management), with one sign of life inside of it. Could this be Sam Witwicky?

No…slag no…none of that made any sense at all! If Bumblebee was here with Sam Witwicky, then where would Optimus and Ratchet be?

Gone off to the Waterfront that Ironhide is supposed to be at…

Sunstreaker's engine revved harshly in frustration. Why in the name of Primus was it so slagging _**hard**_ to form a coherent thought? It didn't feel too cold that his systems would be in danger.

Ah hah! There was one mech in the universe that could help him sort this out.

_:Sideswipe, you there, bro?:_

Silence.

_:Sideswipe?:_

Not even the faintest sensation of his brother's spark came through the link. As a matter of fact, it was as if there was no link. Sunstreaker felt chilled to the spark. How had he not noticed that?

_**:SIDESWIPE?!:**_

Still no answer. Now Sunstreaker was getting anxious and he felt a few internal fans kicking on in response. The snow around him began to fall even thicker, further screwing up his last remaining functioning scanners, and the golden mech felt the first rare twinges of fear mingling with anxiety.

The combined emotions were so strong that when a glob of snow fell on his hood, he was unable to keep from letting out a few sharp blasts of his horn.

Everything suddenly went dark.

* * *

Oh no! Not only is he stranded, Sunstreaker can't get in touch with his bro! What the heck is he gonna do?!

**Post-chapter Author's Notes**: Yes, the route they took is very easy to find on Google maps.

What Sam said about picking up Ironhide at Target mirrors my own irritation at trying to find a Voyager class DotM Ironhide at Target. Might even be that very Target mentioned in this story, who knows. I eventually found one at a Marshall's/Homegoods store in Chicago. Iiiirony :D

Also, I'm really bad at Cybertronian units of time. If anyone has something with weeks, days, a day, minutes, etc., can you forward it to me? Please? Thanks in advance!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: I have to _**what**_?!

* * *

**A/N:** Soooo...short chapter is short, but it's kind of a bonus chapter? It's a bonus mainly because there was a hiccup with ff Wednesday night after I put up the first chapter, and also because I _love_ Fridays, I'm posting chapter two. Ironic that it's so nice and hot out today, and here I am posting a chapter involving so much snow.

Get ready for some Sunstreaker angst :D

* * *

The second time that Beth woke up was due to some idiot blowing his horn right outside of her house.

Groggily, the 29 year old woman sat up in bed and shivered when the flat sheet slipped down to puddle at her waist. She rubbed at her right shoulder, which was still sore from stupidly boxing too much on her Xbox's kinect system the day before, and sighed. Glancing at her cat, who was sleeping at the foot of her bed, Beth shook her head. "Guess I'm not getting much sleep tonight, am I, Princess Kitty Meow Meow?"

The three year old black and white _male _cat, who had been named by Beth's five year old niece, let out a brief purr and stretched before returning to his slumber. As such, the short haired feline gave no helping answer.

Reaching for her long black fleece robe, Beth stood up and pulled it on fast, to escape the chilly bedroom air. Then she peeked through the curtains to look outside, as her bedroom window overlooked the front yard, and her eyes widened. Just about every drowsy feeling left her in a flash.

"You have got to be _kidding_ me!"

Because her street wasn't top of the list for being plowed, it wasn't an unusual winter sight to see a car abandoned midway up the street (which was where her house was located). Mostly it was due to a driver giving up on trying to get up the street, which was fairly steep, and mainly the driver would leave the vehicle in along the curb. But Beth had _never_ had a car abandoned _**in**_ her two car driveway. And this jerk hadn't even had the decency to be fully in her driveway…the stranger's car was partially _on her lawn_.

Her brown eyes narrowed at the sight of the front end of the car plowed nose deep in snow. Beth had shoveled earlier that evening, purposely tossing the snow into the small front yard instead of onto the street as many of her neighbors did.

And here was a very easy on the eyes two door car with its nose jammed into a messy mix of snow, slush, and grass tufts. The back end of the sleek vehicle, which she had to reluctantly admit was a very gorgeous exotic orangey yellow beast, looked to have just barely missed hitting her rental car!

Filled with sudden anger, Beth revamped her plan of attack. Instead of slipping into the kitchen for a couple of sleeping pills and leaving the car and driver to AAA, she stalked over to her wardrobe and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, socks, and a long sleeved red shirt. She left the robe in the bedroom and flipped on the hallway light as she strode for the foyer. She knew that lots of people didn't like a small house, but it gave her the privacy of a home with the size of a large apartment. Or something like that.

She sat on the bench she had near the front door and pulled on her boots, then yanked on a pair of gloves and her white puffy waist length parka. Before unlocking the front door, she put her house key in her jeans pocket. Beth had the worst kind of stupid luck and she didn't want to tempt fate by accidentally locking herself out of her own house.

Princess Kitty Meow Meow wouldn't be getting out of bed to let his owner back in the house.

Not that Beth had _ever_ tried to train said princess to do that.

On went the outdoor light that illuminated the small front porch as Beth stepped outside. Cold air greeted her with a slight slap to the face (thought it wasn't nearly as cold as it was last week), and she groaned when she saw that it was still snowing pretty heavily. It hadn't seemed to be snowing this hard when she had first looked out the window. There had to be at least three inches on the ground, and even with a plow having been by, there was at least an inch of compacted snow on the street.

She couldn't tell if anyone was actually in the strange looking golden-orange car, though it had to have crashed there fairly recently, for the snow wasn't sticking to its surface. Currently the snow that was falling on the hood was melting nearly as soon as it landed, and there was beaded water on the car's body instead of white snow, especially on the hood.

"Definitely just got here," Beth muttered softly. "That car looks hot."

As was the norm at night in the winter during a snowfall, it was quiet out and since she didn't hear anything from the engine, Beth guessed that the car was off. The windows were heavily tinted and she couldn't see inside it, even though the area was brightly lit from a streetlight that was just outside of Beth's short driveway.

"Um…hello? Is anyone in there?" Snow crunched under her boots, and she grimaced as she sank in a deep snow bank that, much like her boots, went halfway up her calves. Beth walked up to the driver's side of the car and hesitantly reached out a leather gloved hand to knock on the window.

* * *

_Fragging slagging __**PIT**__!_ Sunstreaker felt his spark wrench with disgust at the thought of the squishy touching him. His processors flared and instantly rerouted available power from his scanners to the one thing he knew he had to (but hated to) do.

He generated a hologram and lowered his window.

* * *

Beth's hand froze when the window began to lower and she yanked her hand back. Instead of knocking on the window, she tucked a strand of her short dark hair behind her right ear. "Hi, I'm Beth and you're kind of in my driveway. Um, are you okay?"

"Do I _look_ okay?" The guy inside the car snapped at her.

"Well, actually, you look like you're on my driveway…and my lawn," Beth retorted, instantly angry at the tone the guy used on her. "So maybe if you want to, you know, back up and leave? That would be great."

Pale, icy blue eyes glared up at her and Beth had the oddest feeling that the guy wasn't angry at all. He seemed very defensive.

"I…I can't at the moment."

"You what?"

The guy rolled his eyes. "I…I can't, okay? I'm a little stuck."

"You're stuck…" Beth drawled out. "On my property. Nice."

"It's no picnic for me, either," the guy snapped back. "I have to be at the Waterfront to meet my friends and I...took a wrong turn. Something."

_The Waterfront this late at night when nothing is open? Not even Dave and Buster's is open due to the snow. Something's not right with this guy. _Beth studied the guy for a moment. He had the oddest mishmash look to him. Almost as if a scientist had pulled features from several different good looking men and meshed them together to form this guy. He had dark hair, those light blue eyes, straight white teeth, tan skin, and what looked to be a slim but muscular body. Kind of like a martial artist kind of guy. She felt her face flush a little when he glared up at her.

"You wanna take a picture or something?"

Her face flushed more. "Well maybe for insurance purposes…or _something_," she tossed his words back at him.

* * *

_What the slag does Stumblebee __**see**_ _in these humans? They're so infuriating! _

Sunstreaker would've loved to make a tactical retreat. Unfortunately the snow was hindering him greatly. He wished just a bit that he'd have stayed at the hanger, but it was too late for that now. He doubted any alt mode other than the Hummer that Ratchet had picked, or a semi that Optimus chose, would be able to do anything in the snow. Hah. Bumblebee probably had to have Optimus tow him.

And yet this squishy had the nerve to demand that he just leave?

She appeared to be an older femme, more around the age of Squishy Lennox's femme instead of a teenager like Samuel's ex and Jolt's apprentice, Mikaela. Where Mikaela had long hair, this femme's dark hair was chin length. Brown eyes were narrowed at him in a way that was pissing Sunstreaker off. Fragging irritating human.

As she had approached him, Sunstreaker's scanners had instantly done a scan of her body and, though not nearly as adapt as Ratchet's were, Sunstreaker got the basics. From what he'd seen from the datapack's his twin had sent him, this human was almost as scrawny as Mikaela. How did any human survive cold and snow like this with such a thin frame?

"Shouldn't you be rech….asleep? Go back to your berth and let me figure this out."

An eyebrow arched in a manner that reminded him of Squishy Lennox's sparkmate when she was mad. When she spoke, it was with a cool tone that rivaled the current wind chill. "Right, because you're doing a bang up job so far."

Sunstreaker's engine revved slightly. "Uh, yeah, exactly. I'm doing fine. I just needed a little break and if you don't mind, I'll be on my way."

"A little break?" Beth sighed and rubbed at her temples. "You know what, if you need me to, I can help you out."

"I don't…_What_? I don't need help!" Sunstreaker was aghast. "And certainly not from y…"

Suddenly his comm buzzed to life and he froze as Optimus' voice rang through his processor.

_:Sunstreaker, where are you?:_

_:I'm stuck in some slagging squishy's driveway. Where the frag are all of you? You __**abandoned**__ me!:_

"Uh, hello? Earth to strange guy…"

Sunstreaker resisted the urge to snap out at the squishy. Instead he ignored her, rolled up his window, and seriously darkened the window tint. With that, he let his holoform vanish to redirect that power to more significant systems processes.

_:Optimus, where __**are**__ you guys?:_

_:We are at the Waterfront area. What is your location, Sunstreaker?:_

_:Somewhere south of I don't fragging know! Optimus, my scanners are shot to the Pit and that includes any kind of global positioning. Can you help me out or not?:_

_:The great Sunstreaker asking for help?: _Now Ratchet was chiming in. _:Never thought I'd live to see the day.:_

_:Keep it up and you __**won't**__!: _Sunstreaker growled out, letting his engine rev angrily in reply. _:Now will one of you two come for me or not?:_

_:I am afraid that we will not be able to lend assistance, Sunstreaker.: _Optimus sounded genuinely apologetic. _:What difficulties are you experiencing?:_

Knowing what would come from his explanation, Sunstreaker gritted his proverbial teeth and replied to his Prime. _:I'm stuck in my alt mode in some squishy's driveway. I was following Ratchet up a hill and got stuck in the snow. I managed to get into this driveway under a bit of…pressure.:_

_:Pressure?: _This from Ratchet.

_:A snowplow was coming down the street. My options were to get out of the way or get my aft scratched.:_

Chortles from Ratchet, although Optimus had the grace to change the subject. _:Did any of the humans notice this?:_

_:You mean other than the snowplow driver who called me a dumbass?: _Sunstreaker ignored the resumed laughter from the medic. At least it wasn't Bumblebee and Sam joining in. He'd never hear the end of it. _:Actually the human who owns this house is standing right next to me. You know, where I'm stuck in my alt mode.:_

_:Have you spoken to her?:_

_:Yes, Optimus, and she's very fond of talking Lamborghinis.:_

_:Sunstreaker! You at least activated your holoform, didn't you?:_

_:I'm not a sparkling, Prime.:_

Ratchet snorted. _:Yeah, tell me that the next time you're in my med bay for an overhaul.:_

_:That is neither here nor there…:_

_:__**Actually**__, you're overdue,: _Ratchet interrupted. _:I expect to see you in my med bay when we get back to base.:_

Biting back a number of curses in a number of languages, Sunstreaker directed his next question to Optimus. _:How do I get to this Waterfront place? The slagging snow is skewing my scanners!:_

_:I did recommend that you not partake in this mission. Your alt mode is not very sufficient for the atmospheric conditions of this city.:_

_:I think I've come to that conclusion already, Optimus, but thanks for bringing up the subject…__**again**__.:_

_:I am merely saying…:_

_:I __**know**__ what you're slagging saying. You can stop already. :_

A knock on his driver's side window, even with it being the slight tap that it was, was unnerving to Sunstreaker's sensitive scanners. The windows being what they were, not actual glass, were a bit more sensitive than he cared to admit. As it was, he nearly jumped, in alt mode, at the touch.

He ignored the femme and continued with his conversation. _:Optimus, really, __**how**__ am I to get to the Waterfront to help you? I __**need**__ to be there.:_

For all the help that his brother had provided Optimus, Sunstreaker figured that helping to secure the location Ironhide was _supposed _to be in was the least he could do. If any Con dared to attack, Sunstreaker would be there to take the slagger out.

_:If the human is offering to help you, then you should accept.:_

_:__**What**__?! How in Primus' name is __**she**__ going to help __**me**__? Shovel the street the whole way there?:_

Optimus sounded very amused. _:Trust in the human, Sunstreaker, for this species has proven to be very useful and intelligent. They know this planet well and are highly adapted to the weather that surrounds them.:_

_:Optimus, you __**cannot**__ be serious!:_

_:I am highly serious, Sunstreaker. We can wait for at least an hour for you to get here. If you are any later than that, I will have Major Lennox send assistance to you __**after**__ we have located Ironhide.: _There was a pause. _: We will await your arrival. Optimus, out.:_

Sunstreaker felt his spark sinking, but he numbly replied, _:Sunstreaker, out,: _before dropping the comm link. An idea flared across his processor and he reached out for his brother. Frustratingly enough, he still couldn't seem to reach his twin.

_What the frag is going on? I can talk to Optimus and Ratchet, but not my own twin? How the frag can a comm link do what a bond link cannot?_

Another knock to the window resulted in his growing frustration nearly unraveling in a well aimed plasma shot to a certain femme's head. But he reeled in that thought and left it to being merely a pleasant scenario in his strategy planning programming.

He reactivated his holoform as he rolled down the driver's side window. Sunstreaker glared at the femme, then forced himself to relax the facial expression into a less annoyed expression. She had an equally annoyed look on her face.

"What was all of that?"

"All of what?"

"I was talking to you and then you…" She made an up motion with her hand. "Cut me off."

Sunstreaker barely resisted glaring at her. "Emergency phone call. My friends wanted to know where I was."

"Done yet?"

"Yes and…" he sighed. "As much as I hate to admit this…" he trailed off before starting again. "Will you help me reach my friends?"

"Wow," Beth's eyes widened. "I've known you all of ten minutes and even I can tell that took a lot to admit."

"Will you help me or not?" Sunstreaker growled out. "Unless you're just fine with me staying here until the snow melts."

"Oh no _no_ _**no**_," Beth held out her hands in surrender. "_Hell_ no! You are so not staying here until next month."

"Next…month?" Sunstreaker was truly aghast. "I thought you only had snow during Christmas!"

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"You have no idea," Sunstreaker muttered.

"What?"

"Check out the license plates," he said dryly. "I'm from California."

Beth chuckled. "Well _that_ explains a lot."

It was Sunstreaker's turn. "What?"

"Oh, just this whole thing with you not being able to handle the snow."

"Uh huh," He let his holoform lean out of the window a little when he saw Beth crouching near his front left tire. "What are you doing?!" He did his best to freeze his body in place when Beth ran her hands over his tire's tread, but it was hard. It slagging tickled! He didn't even realize he _could_ be ticklish on his tires. Sideswipe would never let him live this down if he found out, which meant he wouldn't find out.

"Stop that!" His weapons systems were blaring warnings of impending action and he was tempted to act on the warnings. "Don't touch my tires!" Sunstreaker was going to have to add decontamination cleaning when they got back to the 911 place.

The femme ignored his annoyed tone of voice and poked at the tire. "You sure these are snow tires?"

"Snow what?" Even as he said it, a subroutine popped up a copy of the memo, which Sunstreaker swiftly deleted. "Stop poking my tire!"

"Okay, fine!" Beth stood up and dusted off her gloved hands. "But really, these don't look like snow tires. You do know there are differences in tires, right?"

Being that his alt mode was a _car_, Sunstreaker felt more than a bit insulted. "Of _**course**_ I do!"

"Even though they're weird looking, they're unmistakably tires that are more suitable for dry summer street performance."

Not wanting to explain to Optimus why he had killed a human, he desperately powered down his battle processor, which was demanding relentlessly for him to draw his weapons out and fire on the human. Instead, he settled for insulting the femme. "Need I once again indicate that I'm from _California_?"

"Well when you visit _Pittsburgh_ in the _winter_, you should change your tires." Beth stumbled a bit and dropped something into the snow at her feet. "Not my house key!" She turned her back to Sunstreaker and crouched down to paw through the snow for her object.

_Keep it calm, Sunstreaker, you gotta keep it calm. Shifting to your mech form and squishing the squishy will feel very good in the heat of the moment, but later on you'll have to answer to Optimus. Plus, she'll leave a horrible organic mess on the bottom of your foot._

An astrosecond later, all thanks to the internet (and how was _that_ working when his comm and bond links were acting up?), Sunstreaker had all the information he needed on the variations of tires, which he had initially ignored before the mission had begun. In the time that Beth had turned her back to him, he swiftly modified his tires to a _winter _tread and stiffness more suited for snow.

With her key safely in her hands, Beth faced Sunstreaker. "So, how do you want me to help you?"

Sunstreaker sat back in his own driver's seat and couldn't help feeling smug. "You know, maybe I won't need your help."

"What?"

"A lot of that being asked, isn't there?" Sunstreaker said silkily. "The weather looks like it's letting up, the street was plowed, and I think I can take it from here."

"If you say so," Beth stared at him with a dubious expression that gave Sunstreaker a chilly feeling. Sideswipe had given him a similar look many times just before a plan had gone wrong. A few fat snowflakes landed on her nose, and she wiped at them.

Well, as the majority of youngling humans were fond of saying, what_ever_.

"What's the best way to get to the Waterfront."

If Beth noticed that it wasn't a question, she didn't let Sunstreaker bait her into anger. She turned to point up a nearby street.

A street that steeply went _up_.

A street that was only slightly less plowed than the street Beth's house was on, which was not very plowed at all.

_Fragging streets and fragging hills and fragging __**snow**__!_

"Yeah, okay, and after that?"

Beth rattled off a series of instructions that made his processor begin to ache a little.

He hated this fragging city already.

* * *

My OC, Beth, is best represented visually by Alex Reid in a movie called The Descent. And, erm, apologies to any Californian who likes snow and can drive in it. Beth's opinions are strictly her own and do not represent the views held by the author.

Who thinks Sunstreaker has a chance in the Pit of managing this on his own?

So, in case if you were wondering, at night when it's snowing, or after it's snowed, it's extremely quiet. It's almost surreal.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: On the Road...Again

* * *

The snow was still falling, in heavy fat flakes, and to keep up appearances Sunstreaker would have to have his windshield wipers on, along with his headlights. Also in keeping up appearances, Sunstreaker made a show of reaching forward to twist an imaginary key. He enjoyed allowing his engine rumble to life with a throaty growl that filled the formerly quiet night air like thunder.

Beth had shoveled out behind Sunstreaker, getting as close to his rear tires as she could without actually touching the tires or the underside of his bumpers. She made a bit of a path for him, shoveling the driveway and cutting through the snow that the plow had shoved up against her driveway's entrance.

"You know you have a bit of damage on your rear bumper," Beth said as she walked up to the driver's side window, which was still down. "Oh, wait. It's actually on the left _and_ right sides. It looks like you rubbed something but it's not too bad."

"Except that _you_ noticed it," Sunstreaker ground out. "Which means that it's visible. All thanks to two slagging guard rails."

"Guard rails, huh?"

"I think I took the wrong exit from the parkway thing," Sunstreaker found himself explaining to the femme, though he wasn't sure why. "I think I was supposed to go straight, but I turned. The snow was so thick and I thought I was following one of my friends. I guess I was following the wrong Hummer."

"I know the exit," Beth nodded. "It can be tough if you take the turn too sharp." She eyed his tires. "Or if you're driving in snow on summer tires."

"I made it from the airport, didn't I?"

Her eyes widened. "The airport?" She whistled appreciatively. "I guess…maybe I _am_ misjudging you."

"Of course you are," Sunstreaker smirked (he was really enjoying the range of expressions the human holoform had). "But that's okay. I know a Lamborghini seems flashy, but it's entirely able to handle a little snow."

Beth arched an eyebrow. "A little snow? Three inches is more than a little snow for someone from California…on summer tires."

"Give it the frag up already," Sunstreaker rolled his optics…er…eyes. "Well, I'd like to say it's been nice, but it really hasn't."

"Yeah, right," Beth smiled at him and walked back up onto her porch. "Uh, safe driving to you."

Sunstreaker smirked again. He was almost going to miss the femme and….Nah, slag that. He was more than ready to get out of this Pit of a city. He rolled up the window and felt in the limited range that his sensors had that there were, this time, no vehicles out on the streets. He made a slight show of turning around in the driver's seat while backing up.

He found it to be very easy to back out of the driveway, and Sunstreaker almost laughed in triumph. It was so easy! He didn't know why he had even been the slightest bit concerned.

But when he accelerated forward…

He found himself in much of the same mess as before. His tires spun frantically, but he barely moved an inch. If he was a human and his body was just a car, he'd have the pedal to the metal and would be trying to go as fast as possible.

In Sunstreaker's case, he could go _much_ faster than a human built Lamborghini could ever dream of going. However he didn't think that being able to go that fast would help his cause out much at all.

He realized then that Beth was waving her arms frantically, trying to get his attention. He stopped just before he almost slammed his right rear bumper into a car parked in an on-street parking space. Snow continued to fall in merry fat flakes, tormenting him with their multitude of numbers.

_Stupid Pittsburgh and its stupid snow!_

The femme slipped and slid on the snow, much to Sunstreaker's amusement, and made her way over to him. He rolled down the passenger side window and cringed when Beth's hands gripped the door frame. All of his delight at her lack of traction vanished. "Yes?"

She either ignored or was oblivious to his frosty tone of voice. "Um, you almost ran into my neighbor's car."

"I noticed."

"I thought you said you'd be able to handle a little snow."

Sunstreaker glared at the shining Autobot emblem in the center of his steering wheel. "I miscalculated."

Beth sighed. "Listen, there's no way I'd normally offer this to a stranger, but you really need some help."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics over at her. "What?"

"Let me drive your car for you. I'll drive you to the Waterfront."

Sunstreaker recoiled in extreme revulsion. "No! No way!"

"Do you have AAA?" Beth asked. "Maybe they could tow you back to the airport or…"

"AAA?"

"Yeah, roadside assistance could probably tow you to…"

"Tow?" His voice took on an even icier tone. "I do **not** get towed. _Ever_. For _**any**_ reason!"

Beth was surprised by the venom in his voice and felt chastised. "Okay, um, let me think. No towing, no roadside assistance, no me driving your car. Think, Beth, what else…"

While the femme seemed to be doing her best to think up of something else to suggest, Sunstreaker was trying to get rid of the appalled feelings he was experiencing. Mainly because he kept hearing Prime's voice in his mind, telling him to trust in the human.

And all of his instincts were telling him to let the human do what she had first suggested.

He was _so_ slagged.

* * *

Beth couldn't help but to feel a bit disappointed _and _relieved at the same time. While she felt a bit of a compulsion to help this man, she didn't think she could handle the powerful car. The Camaro that she claimed was hers turned a number of heads, but it wasn't her car. It was a rental. Her own car, a teal colored ancient 1997 Ford Contour, was currently in the shop. Beth had jumped on the chance to rent the Camaro. It was the kind of car she had drooled over ever since she'd first seen one, but she couldn't ever afford it. It was a dream to drive, but other than the Camaro and the Contour, Beth had zero experience driving little else. Certainly nothing as powerful as a Lamborghini!

A Laborghini…This guy had a _freaking_ _**Lamborghini**_! She doubted very much that she could even drive it. It would be much more powerful than the Camaro. The idea to help this man, crazy as it was, had just popped into her mind out of the blue and she berated herself for thinking such a thought.

_Sure, Beth, go on and offer to drive a stranger to the Waterfront at __**one in the freaking morning**__. Brilliant idea, that. It's a surefire way to get on the six pm news. Local woman vanishes after helping a sexy stranger drive his even sexier car. More at eleven._

The least she could do was call a taxi for this guy. He could meet his friends, one of which apparently had a Hummer, and they could drive back here. Maybe the Hummer could tow the exotic car back to the airport. Surely being towed by a friend wasn't as revolting as being towed by AAA.

This guy drove a Lamborghini from the airport tonight? He obviously had the yellow/orange car flown in to Pittsburgh, but what for? Maybe there was an exotic car show or something. Who knew.

"Hey, hey you!"

Beth turned to see the guy, who had not once stepped out of the car, beckoning her closer. "What?" she asked warily, though it was highly unlikely he would abduct her.

His lack of winter driving skills were exactly _that_ much of a comfort to her.

"Did you notice the snow is slowing down?"

She looked around and shrugged. "Yeah, it's probably lake-effect snow."

"I thought Pittsburgh only had rivers."

"From Lake Erie up north," Beth explained patiently. "Snow travels in waves, bands, from Lake Erie and showers down on Pittsburgh and any city in its path."

"Nice," the guy grumbled, sighed, and stared at her with those weird blue eyes. "Listen, I'm taking you up on your offer." He threw the car into park and flung the door open. She backed away a bit when he stepped out and Beth noticed he was just a bit taller than she was, maybe about six feet or so, slender but with muscular shoulders.

She stared from the car, to her house, to the guy. "What? _Now_?"

"Yeah, now," the guy shrugged. "What, you have something else to do?"

"Other than sleeping so I don't fall asleep at work?"

"C'mon," he grinned wickedly. "When was the last time you drove a car as flashy as this?"

"What, other than _my_ car?" Beth pointed to the car cover covered car. "I drive a brand spanking new silver 2014 Chevy Camaro, buddy. Best car out there." A white lie – or silver in this case – but Beth's pride wasn't about to take a nose dive. What this guy didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Or rather it wouldn't hurt her self-esteem if he didn't know.

The guy snorted. "Yeah, sure." He frowned at the covered vehicle. "So…that's _your_ car? And it's grey?"

"Silver."

"Silver, whatever."

"You don't like Camaros?"

"Whatever floats your boat," the guy said. "One of my friends is…uh, has a Camaro. It's blazing ass yellow."

"Like your car?"

"My car is _golden_," the guy said, a little indignantly. "Nowhere near yellow."

"Okay, it's gold," Beth said, eyeing the Lamborghini appreciatively. "A very shimmery gold. I like it."

"Of course you do," the guy said and, though reluctantly, propped open the driver's side door for her. "Now, in you go…"

"Can I grab my cell phone at least?"

"Will you be fast about it?" the guy asked warily. "I don't have time for you to say it's just a cell phone, when you're really getting dressed up in a different outfit, slathering on war paint, bathing in perfume, and grabbing a teeny purse."

"…war paint?"

"Makeup," the guy muttered. "Friend's ex-girlfriend called it her war paint."

"I'm not going to do any of that," Beth said. "I'm just going to grab my cell phone."

The guy sighed. "Fine, go get it, but hurry up. I'm sitting in the middle of the slagging street and I don't need another round with that plow." With that he strode around to the passenger's side and flung himself inside, shutting the door after him. The driver's side door also closed, with that quiet thunking sound that expensive cars had.

Beth hurried into her house for her cell phone.

The odd wording of the guy's demand barely registered.

* * *

Once the femme was in her house, Sunstreaker let his holoform disappear and he felt relief as the power it took to maintain the form was released to normal processes. He wasn't as good at holoforming as Jazz or Bumblebee were. And Hound…Hound was a _master_ at it. Hound could keep his holoform solid and away from his Cybertronian body for up to a mile. Two miles if he really pushed it.

His close proximity sensors flared, letting him know that the femme was on her way back. True to her word, she was gone barely long enough to flit in and out of her home. He reactivated his holoform in the passenger's seat the second she reached out and touched the driver's side door handle.

The door swung open smoothly (of _course_), and she lowered herself onto the seat, closing the door behind her. For a moment, the femme stared around at the luxury that surrounded her, and slowly ran her hands over the steering wheel.

Once again, Sunstreaker found himself almost shivering at the sensation. His holoform reflected that, and his eyes squeezed shut at the sensation. He hated to admit that it had felt…good. Pit spawned humans and their light touches.

Beth noticed and she stopped to look at him. "Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and looked over at her. "Slight headache."

Concern flooded her face. "Oh, sorry! I'll…um…well, let's get started." She looked at the gear shifter and sighed. "Crap, I should've guessed this was a stick shift."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well…kind of," her face flushed. "I never learned how to drive manual transmission."

"What? And you drive a Camaro? An automatic transmission Camaro?" He couldn't help it. Teasing this femme was easy and amusing.

"Yeah, I do! Lots of people do," Beth defended her car. "Nothing wrong with it." She ran her right hand over the gear shift knob and sighed. "But this…I guess they wouldn't make a Lamborghini with an automatic transmission."

Honestly, Sunstreaker had no idea if his alt mode choice did or didn't come in automatic transmission and he really didn't care. It suited his needs for a gorgeous alt, and the paint was just as fabulous as he was. But Beth needed to drive an automatic transmission vehicle and she was going to drive one right now.

"You're in luck then," Sunstreaker modified his vehicle form to actually have a transmission (because he didn't really need it) and made it automatic. The idea of giving up even a microscopic amount of control to a human went against every beat of his spark, but he knew he _had _to if he wanted to get to the others before Ironhide was brought back.

"I am? How?"

"This is an automatic transmission Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera."

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Sunstreaker said smoothly. "Did I stutter? I hate it when that happens."

"N…no, you didn't," Beth stopped gaping at him. "It's just that after all the gruff you gave me about my car, you have the nerve to have an automatic transmission _Lamborghini_?"

"You didn't think it was funny?"

"I don't like it when people insult my car. Would you?"

"They wouldn't live to find out."

"Well, there you go."

"Actually, I need _you_ to help _me_…go."

Beth shook her head. "You're very weird."

"More than you can even guess."

* * *

Once she had enough of a look around, still amazed that she was in an automatic shift Lamborghini, even though for a second she would've sworn it looked like a stick shift, Beth felt her determination rise. Surely this couldn't be that hard. It was at least an automatic. Reaching for the key, she realized that there wasn't one.

"Problem?"

"Um…no key…"

"Push button start," he pointed to a button on the center console that said "push to start" and was careful to keep from smiling too broadly.

"But earlier I thought I saw you using a key."

"You're driving my car, which is bad enough as it is, but I'll be Pit damned and back if I let you put your hands on my key."

"Of course," Beth muttered with the slightest sigh of exasperation. Pushing the button, she was rewarded with the same throaty engine purring that she heard earlier. Only now, instead of being annoyed, a thrill ran through her because _she _was the one about to drive this car. She was going to be behind all of the power that Lamborghini had to offer. She had no idea about how many model versions there were, but even she'd heard of Gallardo. She'd never heard of Superleggera. She just didn't realize what it was when she'd first seen it.

"So, do you have a name?"

"Yes."

She looked at him pointedly, then sighed. "I'm Beth and you're…"

"Late to see my friends."

"Okay, Late, nice to meet you." She rolled her eyes and shifted the car into drive, then slung it down into third, then second. "I hope you're ready to go."

"Been ready," 'Late' grumbled and shifted in his seat. The car bounced a little under his movements.

"You look nervous," Beth said as she lightly pushed on the gas pedal.

"I never let anyone drive this car but me," was all he muttered. He was frowning and staring at the street ahead of them. "And I very, _very_, _**very**_ rarely let anyone else inside."

"Yeah, I can tell," Beth said and she frowned. "You have a parking brake on?"

"No, why?"

"Car's not moving."

He grunted and shrugged. "Nope."

Suddenly the car gave a little jerk backwards and Beth grinned. "Okay, we're ready to go!"

Late rolled his eyes again but kept his gaze on the road ahead.

* * *

Sunstreaker had to grudgingly admit that, while the femme had a light touch, she knew what she was doing. He'd never thought to go slow in order to go up a snow covered hill. Second gear? Third gear? Frag that. He knew two gears: fast and now.

The snow had slowed to just an occasional flake. Streetlights turned the white snow into various shades of gold, which he took to being a good sign. Despite slipping sideways just twice so far, and admittedly it had been Sunstreaker's fault because Beth had tickled him (accidentally) by gripping his steering wheel too tightly, they were up the hilly street that Beth had initially pointed out to him. Now they were on a flat street that was intersecting with yet _another_ hill.

This one was steeper than anything he'd yet faced in Pittsburgh. Its slope was sharply angled, snowy, and had cars parked on both sides of the street, which narrowed the driving space to barely allow two cars to pass by each other.

"What the Pit is this?" Sunstreaker said in disbelief. "What's with this city and all the slagging hills?"

"It's just the terrain," Beth said, but kept her eyes firmly on the road.

It was uncomfortable for Sunstreaker to give up so much control of his own body to an alien life form. His instinct was to fight it every step (or roll) of the way. It perturbed him to do this, but there was simply no other way for him to get to Optimus and the others, and he had to trust his Prime's words to trust the human.

And here was a human, a squishy organic _human_, actually driving him.

If this had been happening for any other reason, Beth would be a very dead squishy.

Slag it all. At the rate things were going this evening, he _had_ to believe that Ironhide would be found and restored to life by Sam Witwicky.

After all, if a human could drive his alt mode (and not be killed), then surely a human could bring Ironhide back to life.

But he was never going to hear the end of this from his brother.

* * *

"So, what made you settle for a Camaro?"

The question took Beth completely by surprise and her eyes flicked away from the road to the guy and back in a flash. Though the roads looked worse than they were, they still demanded her utmost attention. She didn't have a clue as to how much a Lamborghini must cost, but it was surely more than every item she owned.

Wrecking Late's car, much less scratching it, would more than likely ruin her finances. And those were already shaky enough as it was.

"Settle? I hardly settled on it." Despite wanting to frown at Late's question, she couldn't help but to grin at the throaty rumblings from the engine. It almost sounded impatient to be going so slow. "Well…I think it's…"

Late sighed when Beth hesitated to reply for a minute. "It's what?"

"Fast, sleek, comfortable…"

"Comfortable?" An elegant eyebrow arched. "I'll have to tell B that."

_B? _Beth thought. _What kind of a name is that? Maybe it's a nickname. Or an alias… I mean, the guy does drive this really exotic car. Maybe he's some kind of a spy or something._

"Yeah, comfortable," Beth defended her (rental) car, though she thought she caught a teasing tone from Late. "And…and I think it's quite gorgeous."

He chuckled at that. "Nowhere near as gorgeous as me."

"You?"

"I meant to say my car." He smirked in a very self-confident manner. "My car surpasses any Camaro."

"Okay, true, I'll give you that," Beth said, as she slowed down for a stop sign. "But I can't afford your car. I can just about afford the monthly payments on my car, and that's before gas and insurance payments. Not to mention my rent, food, and other stuff."

Late grunted and looked slightly uncomfortable as Beth eased the car forward. The tires spun a bit and the car slipped to the side for a second before Beth straightened it out.

She frowned at the steering wheel and slapped it lightly. "Behave!"

"What did you do _**that**_ for?"

Beth glanced over at Late and her eyes widened when he looked both surprised and a little angry. "Do what for?"

"You just hit the steering wheel! Why did you do that?!"

She felt her face flush. "Sorry, I just…" Inwardly she was scolding herself. She was growing far too comfortable with this car! "I talk to my car sometimes and, you know, sometimes…"

"Slap it for bad behavior?" Late scowled at her.

Sheepishly, for she had actually meant her snarky Contour and not the well behaved Camaro, Beth nodded.

"Well don't go slapping my steering wheel around, okay?" Late stared out the window and Beth couldn't see his expression.

"I'm sorry," Beth gently pressed on the brake pedal and felt an amazing sense of control as the powerful vehicle responded to her request. Another stop sign was coming up, but this one was on a slight downslope. The road ended here, taking up with a main street. However, with the storm being as it was, the street looked to have been plowed about an hour ago. And that meant it looked barely touched.

"You're forgiven," Late looked over at her. "I'm new here, in your country, and certain things are still new."

"Oh yeah?" Beth quirked an eyebrow. "Where you from?"

"…Overseas."

Beth sensed he wouldn't elaborate, so she fell silent and focused on the street. The car wasn't giving her too much trouble, though she still felt a mix of giddiness and a bit of fear from driving such a car.

He paused, then continued. "I've never had anyone in my car before."

"I'm the first, huh?" At Late's nod and slight grunt, she smiled. "I'm honored then. Thank you for trusting me enough to do this."

"I'll trust you when we get there," Late replied. "In one piece _and_ in my friends' presence."

Beth barely held back another sigh. _Oh, is that all? Well, no pressure then._

* * *

Sunstreaker was glad when the femme didn't pressure him after he said he was new in her country. Country, world, _solar system_…it was all true. He just didn't give a slag to expand on it all. For Primus's sake, he wouldn't even have _met_ this femme if it hadn't been for fragging Sam Witwicky getting a message from the Primes, and therefore Primus Himself, about how to bring Ironhide back.

The idea flew through his processors that he wouldn't have an organic femme driving him if it hadn't been for all of the slagging snow. If Sam Witwicky had gotten the grand idea of being here in warmer months, or even if he had the idea that Ironhide was in a warmer climate…

There would be no…Alien…Organic…Femme…_In his body_!

He had an _alien_ in his gorgeous self…touching him...steering him..._**controlling**_ him...

It was almost enough to make his tanks churn. _Almost_. Sunstreaker was sensible enough to quell that sensation. He couldn't purge while stuck in his alt, and he couldn't very well ask Beth to step out to allow him to shift into his base form so that he _could_ purge.

Yes, that would go over _so_ very well, and he was certain Optimus wouldn't mind at all.

He sighed, more an effort at keeping up appearances than anything. Sunstreaker was doing his best to remain as calm as he could. Still and all, he could feel the slush being flung up onto his undercarriage and decided it was almost as bad as mud. Mud, which he had discovered on a different (and not as evolved) planet, was dirty and needed to be washed off, but this melting snow was _cold _and he could feel every nook and crevice it was getting into.

When they got Ironhide back, Sunstreaker was going to do nothing but spend all his free time on the sunny beaches of Diego Garcia. Not even a Con infestation would keep him from bathing in the bright rays of sunshine.

Well…okay, a Con infestation _might_ ease some of the boredom that he'd had growing, what with the vorns of space travel. And maybe a prank or two. And of course he _had_ to work on getting Sideswipe to transscan something less offensive than the Corvette alt he had. Sunstreaker shuddered to think of his twin, out of his alt mode, and trying to get around in this snow on wheels instead of sensible feet.

Fragging. _Nightmare_.

It was then that Sunstreaker noticed they had approached an intersection. There was (ultra fast google search) a gas station to his right, some kind of oil change automotive center to his left, and a lot of homes in front of him.

"How close are we?"

"Fairly close," Beth said as she looked around the intersection. "With this weather, we're maybe about twenty minutes away. In good weather it might have been eight minutes."

Sunstreaker nodded and kept silent. He didn't want to take Beth's attention from the road, obviously, but with his GPS slagged as it was he didn't know where he was. But with this native behind his wheel, he was beginning to feel that he had an insider's experience.

_Trust the human. _Slag it all if Prime was right.

The streets here were better. Sunstreaker could actually see patches of black asphalt beneath the snow. What was more, he could feel areas where pavement, and not snow, met his tread. It was a bit exhilarating. Maybe he could have made it this far on his own after all.

And then came the most frightening moment of Sunstreaker's time on Earth.

"_**Another**__ slagging hill?"_

* * *

Author's Note: Before anyone who loooooves Lamborghini Gallardos happens to mention this, from the pictures I've seen of the Superleggera's interior, there is no shifter for the "automatic" transmission. But this is Sunstreaker, and he really doesn't care about what the interior is supposed to look like, it only matters what helps him out. Also, I don't think it has "push to start" but then again, Sunstreaker doesn't want Beth getting a hand on his ignition key.

That being said, I hope no one minds the artistic liberty!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Seeking Sanity**

* * *

Beth had to bite at the inside of her cheek at Late's dismayed bellow. She calmly replied with, "Good thing you're not driving by yourself, huh?"

Wide eyes were turned her way. She had no idea if Late was scared, nervous, angry, or what, but she felt it must be a mix of all those and more.

"When I get back to California, I don't think I'll be leaving it."

"It snows in Northern California."

"Then I'm relocating to a desert."

Beth chuckled. "I think I may really miss you when you go back."

This appealed to the tip of the iceberg that was Late's ego. "Of course you will."

The young woman wanted to sigh and roll her eyes, but kept her gaze on the road. Guys like Late were predictable. It was almost too easy. You pet their ego, praise their choice of car, and they're putty in your hands. Never insult them or lead them to think they're wrong in any way, and you were good in their books.

The hill that Late was slackjawed at was on a descent instead of a rise. Truth be told, it could be just as hard to go down a snowy street as it was to go up. Beth almost preferred going up versus down. Going down had a number of things that could go wrong. In her own experience, the worst was misjudging how the vehicle could handle such a descent and slipping sideways.

"So, can you tell me exactly where at the Waterfront you have to be at?" Beth was continually scanning the road, which was a gorgeous white that she knew would be a plowed slushy mess about twelve hours from now. "There are a lot of buildings on the Waterfront."

"Something called the pump house," Late shrugged and continued staring out of the side window.

"Yeah, I know the place," Beth said, though she felt both annoyed (because it was past all the shopping areas) and relieved. He'd named an actual location. That could be good or bad. "After we get down this hill, we'll be going across the bridge, down a ramp from the bridge, and driving through the Waterfront shopping areas," Beth squinted for a moment, yawned slightly, and sighed. "From what you told me, you need to get just beyond the last shopping area. I know the building since it's a landmark. Historical landmark."

"Uh huh," Late looked even more bored by the "historical landmark" phrase.

"Apparently, and despite the steel mills that used to be here, that building you need to get to has been there since the 1700's."

"That's not that old."

Though she wanted to give him an incredulous stare, Beth's focus remained on the road. The traffic lights were blinking in that yellow/red thing that they did when it was after hours. The colors flicked on the snow.

"I mean, not _really_ that old."

"It's pretty old, Late."

"I've seen older."

This time she did roll her eyes. "You look all of thirty. I doubt you've been around, much less seen, anything older than three hundred years."

A mirthful snort came from Late. "Yeah, I might have."

"So, who's giving me a ride home?" Beth figured she may as well pop the question. She was nervous enough about Late and his friends, though it was obvious to her that she had all the power at the moment. Late couldn't even drive his own car!

"Dunno," Late said lazily. "Maybe Ratchet or Lennox." He sighed, then sounded very amused. "Or maybe B could drive you home. He's the guy with the Camaro."

Despite being a bit disappointed in not being able to drive the lovely Lambo back, Beth couldn't help but to be interested in talking to the guy with the so called bright ass yellow Camaro. "Hmm…maybe I can see how well _he_ did in the snow!"

That earned a growl from Late. "I doubt you'd want to talk about his car and snow."

"As opposed to _your_ car and snow?"

"Shut up," Late snapped out. "Bad enough I have a slagging femme driving me, uh, in my car. Everyone's gonna see that."

Beth couldn't help the chuckle that came at how wounded and angry Late sounded. Male pride was ever a testy thing.

Then the chuckle vanished in a gasp as Beth slammed on the brakes of the Lamborghini. She couldn't help the short, though shrill, shriek when the car fishtailed and started to spin.

"No, no! You piece of Italian junk!" Beth tried turning the steering wheel in the direction the car was sliding, which was across the lane of traffic, but the car seemed to be locked up. Neither the steering _nor_ the breaks were responding. She slammed her left hand against the steering wheel, ignoring Late's surprised bellow at her action, and growled low at the car again. "Stop acting up, you stupid Lambo!"

It both was and wasn't a shocker to Beth that the car seemed to shake the locked up phase it had been in. Suddenly the steering wheel was responding to Beth in that fluid motion it had, and she was able to slow the vehicle's spin (which had been a slow but steadily gaining momentum spin across four lanes of road) to a stop.

However it was a stop in the far left lane of traffic, which was to say that any traffic coming towards them was coming from the bridge. It was fortunate for Beth, Late, and the Lambo that there was too much snow on the street and that it was nearing two am, and as such they were the only people out.

Breathing heavily, though mostly due to her nerves being shot to Hades and back, Beth sat back in the seat and relaxed the iron grip she had on the steering wheel. She blinked and let out a frustrated sigh. "Snow and exotic cars…not good bedfellows."

There was no reply from Late, and after noting they were the only souls on the road, Beth gripped the steering wheel with her hands at the top of the wheel and pillowed her forehead on her hands. Just for a second…she needed just a second to get her wits together.

Yet she wasn't surprised when she heard Late's low and venomous retort.

"My car is _not _stupid."

She raised her head to look at him, but he was staring solidly out the windshield, which was pointed in the direction of the IHOP.

_Oh man__…_ she thought to herself. _**What**__ did I get myself into?_

* * *

Though he resolved to keep a stoic expression on his holoform's faceplates, Sunstreaker was berating himself. The femme had a good hand, firm and knowledgeable. She slagging well knew what she was doing behind the wheel of a car, especially when driving in the snow, and he had nearly sent them into some kind of a retaining wall.

Her winter driving skills had been very good.

At least they had been until they had gotten halfway down the hilly street. He looked over at her, but she was looking behind them. He also looked, but saw nothing but the tracks his own tires had left in the snow. He grimaced at how the two straight tracks (as straight as tracks can be on a gently curving downward sloping hill) suddenly fishtailed, spun, and orbited to their current location.

Something felt…off. He hadn't known the femme very long at all, but he sensed that she had a very solid head on her shoulders. She wouldn't have reacted so abruptly without reason.

"Why did you do that?"

Beth looked over at him and her brows furrowed with confusion. "Do what? Skid like a novice?"

"Yes."

Her frown deepened before she sighed and shrugged. "I…I thought I saw something…but…" she looked behind them again and shook her head. "I don't see any tracks in the snow."

"You saw something? What?"

She rubbed at her upper left arm with her right hand. "I…I don't…It was dark and _fast. _It was huge."

With a frown of his own, Sunstreaker also looked back. His optics weren't as powerful in his holoform as they were in his base mode, but he could see that there were no tracks in the snow save for his. And of course his sensors were still on the fritz. He couldn't sense any spark signatures, though if it had been an enemy even Sunstreaker knew of a number of devices that could mask a spark signature.

Being with Beth in this short amount of time, being faced with the simple yet effective enemy that snow was turning out to be, had made him forget about his own enemies. And if a Con _was_ around, this femme would be a very easily squished casualty.

"I could probably handle this from here," he said nonchalantly, "if you wanted to get out."

It wasn't that Sunstreaker was afraid that the femme would be killed. He just didn't want to have to report to Optimus that she had been offlined under his watch. His Prime had a great fondness for these organics. Expelling her here seemed reasonable.

"Are you nuts?" Beth gaped at him, then glared at him. "For one thing it's freezing out there and I'm wearing just the basics. I didn't even grab my heavy coat! Secondly, it's going to take me at least an hour to walk back to my house from here. Third, if I die from you abandoning me here, I'm going to haunt your ass until _you _die!"

Sunstreaker grimaced. No way did he want this femme haunting his aft for countless millennia. "Okay, fine," he rolled his optics. "But it's your aft if anything happens to you. _Not_ my fault."

One eyebrow was raised. "You're a strange, strange man."

Sunstreaker merely grinned and shrugged. "Them's the breaks." He sighed, simply for show since he didn't need to breathe, and pointed. "How about you getting this gorgeous car moving? I need to meet up with…"

"Blah, blah, your friends, yadda yadda." She roughly put the car in gear. "I heard it ten billion times already."

The vents of the vehicle pumped out air that was a little warmer than programmed by the "digital" thermostat. Sunstreaker felt he was what the humans called a saint for putting up with this femme…and not slagging aiming his plasma cannon at her.

And firing it.

_Repeatedly_.

* * *

She knew she was making it look easy, and Beth had no qualms about showing off in front of this arrogant, conceited male. But in reality it was a fight every step of the way. If it wasn't the snow that had every nerve on edge, it was the car itself that was fighting her. There was no doubt in her mind that the car was every bit a reflection of its owner.

Shiny.

Conceited.

Arrogant.

Hot headed.

_Gorgeous_.

She felt her cheeks flush at the thought. _Drop that subject, Bethie,_ she chided herself. _Once you get Mister California back with his friends, he and his sexy car will be on the next flight back to that warm weather paradise you__'__ll only see on tv. _

Despite wanting to leave Pittsburgh for warmer climates, especially in the winter months, she simply didn't have the money to do so. It was expensive to move, and in this kind of a job environment she had to make do with what she had. Money was tight as it was.

_Focus, Beth, focus,_ she told herself as she guided the car back to the proper lane. She was deeply relieved that there were no police on the road. The last thing she needed was to have to explain why she was driving such an expensive car that belonged to a total stranger.

"It's weird," Beth said, purely to make conversation. "But that dark shape almost looked like something really fast had _flown_ in front of us."

She heard Late mutter something under his breath but couldn't understand what seeking had anything to do about it.

* * *

When the femme had mentioned that the dark shape looked as if it had flown, a creeping dread began to work its way towards his spark. He knew that Starscream had supposedly been offlined in the Chicago battle, but no body had been recovered. That mech was as resilient as anything Sunstreaker had ever encountered. He wouldn't be surprised if the fragger had survived.

Then again, if Sunstreaker was on Earth with _his_ twin, it couldn't be too great of a stretch that one or more of Starscream's trine had managed to find their way to Earth. And if the trine was together, then there would be a lot of trouble on the horizon. Not saying that the Command Trine couldn't liven things up, but beyond their entertainment value, they were a bit annoying.

Not to mention, there was only one mech that Sunstreaker knew of that had the ability to be fast, fly, and come and go with barely a hint on a scanner.

_:Prime, you there?:_

Nothing.

_:Prime? __**Now**__ where the frag are all of you?:_

He sighed loudly, frustrated beyond belief. With a glare out of his side window, Sunstreaker saw the dark waters of a river far below them. The bridge lights, and those of a brightly lit shopping district ahead of them, were reflected in the water. "Is that the Waterfront?"

"Yeah," the femme replied, then yawned. "Uh, it's not too much longer." Her eyes flicked around at their surroundings. A blinking traffic light was coming up, and there was a ramp on either side of the slight intersection, both headed down to the Waterfront.

"What are you thinking?"

"Well, we have to get down there, but I think I need to break a few road rules." She flashed a look his way, but he couldn't figure out if she was asking permission or being amused. "You're only supposed to go down on the right ramp and up on the left."

"So?"

"So the place you need to be on is to the left. It'll add more time if we go to the right, and drive around." She nodded to the right. "See that big tan building? That's a movie theater. We have to go around that to go under this bridge, and…" Another nod, this time to the left. "We have to go that way."

"Well it's not as if anyone's here to watch you do anything," and Sunstreaker had to hope that his Prime had figured this out as well. It wouldn't do to be caught by local authorities while they were trying to resurrect Ironhide. With all of this snow there'd be no fast escape, and NEST was still having a fragging hard time trying to polish the reputation of the Autobots. It was hard trying to convince the humans that not all Cybertronians were out to eradicate humanity. Even though Sunstreaker didn't like the squishies much at all, it went against his basic programming to destroy anything weaker than he was.

Having local authorities being aware of their presence in such a little town would be trouble.

And unlike the fragging annoying Seekers, Sunstreaker couldn't fly his way out of trouble.

_Seekers_…

Sunstreaker sighed again, this time softer. If it _was _Skywarp, there'd be trouble regardless. The slagger was irritating as much as he was a challenge. While Sunstreaker loved a challenge, Skywarp was more irritating than the scratches he'd gotten on his sides. Internally, he snickered a little at that. Just a little. Sideswipe would appreciate the pun.

The slow pace Beth was maintaining was slagging frustrating. He had since discovered that it was safest to drive this slow, and she had gotten him much farther than he ever would have, but his spark was crying for speed.

Speed, along with battle, was what he was created for.

"So should I…"

"Make the left," Sunstreaker interrupted her. "I don't have time to follow the rules."

* * *

She would've thought nasty things about how Late was so stuck on himself and his friends, but she had caught an undercurrent. There was something _big_ going on and Late had gotten himself stranded due to a mistake. He was relying on her to help him. The least she could do was to help.

But still and all…

It was late, she had work in the morning, and her boss would be very displeased if she called off. Not even the snowstorm would be excuse enough for a call off. It was only Wednesday, er, Thursday, and she'd had a tough week at work, dealing with angry customers, and she hadn't gotten decent night's sleep the entire week.

Beth was, to use car terms, running on fumes. Driving the Lamborghini was beyond nice. It was out of this world! But sleep was on the fringes of her consciousness. She'd be lucky if she didn't fall asleep on the drive back, strangers or not.

She yawned again and shifted in the very comfortable driver's seat. From the corner of her eye she saw Late glance over at her.

"You're not going to fall asleep, are you?"

"What? No! Psh. Of course not!" Inside Beth's mental voice was screeching about what a liar she was.

Late made a noncommittal sound.

"I'm not!" Beth narrowed her eyes at the snow covered road and slowed down as the Lamborghini approached the light. Gently she turned to the left. She had never driven down this ramp, though she thought she had heard that once it had been one lane up and one lane down. It was odd to drive down, but she did so after shifting the transmission into second gear.

To Beth, it was quite a relief to drive this late at night, with all the snow. She could easily breeze through intersections. For some reason, the police were the last thing on her mind. It was no time at all as they drove past Target, Giant Eagle, Marshall's, DSW, Petco, Michael's, and then finally a Lowe's home improvement store.

The car seemed to bounce a bit under her feet and she frowned.

"Something wrong?"

Not bothering to look at Late, she frowned. "No, I don't think so." She looked at the gauges, but nothing seemed amiss. "You should probably get some gas before you leave here."

"Huh?"

"Half tank," Beth motioned to the gas indicator. "You shouldn't let it fall too far below half a tank in cold weather." Her cheeks flushed. "At least that's what my dad always told me. Something about fuel lines."

"Yeah," Late replied, but he seemed distracted.

"You wanna call your friends? See if they're still here?"

He shook his head. "I already tried. No one's…picking up."

Beth arched an eyebrow. "I didn't see a phone or hear you calling anyone."

The man held up a dark colored phone in his right hand. "I texted them. No reply."

"Huh. Okay."

The Lambo drove along lazily as the road curved gently. Beth dared to pull up the transmission into drive and she heard Late grunt.

"You're putting it in drive?"

"Yah," Beth felt a bit of regret that she'd never drive this gorgeous vehicle on a dry road. It seemed to have been begging her the entire drive to go faster than the creeping crawl she'd been making it do. "We're almost there."

"We are?" Late sat up from the slouch he'd been in. "How much further?"

"It's right there, that building to the left." Beth frowned. "I don't see any vehicles. Are you sure they're here?"

* * *

Oh, they were here alright. Even with his sensors being dulled from maintaining a holoform, he could make out the tracks along the road. Mentally he was kicking himself. The tire tracks from Prime and the others had been there. He just hadn't noticed. Granted they were fuzzy due to an inch of snow, but they were still there.

He felt a bit of giddiness and his engine revved in reply.

"What the…" Beth stared at the hood. "I didn't do anything…Is that normal?"

"Uh huh." The grin on Sunstreaker's face was broad and matched the upbeat growl from his engine.

"Weird."

"Yep."

The femme gently steered Sunstreaker into the building's very small parking lot. He could feel things again, unhindered by the slagging snow. A warmth grew in his spark and he could suddenly sense the others. He didn't know what the frag had been going on, but he knew that his nightmare was finally ending.

He overrode what the femme was doing and drew himself to a stop in the center of the parking lot.

"I…what happened? I'm not even touching the brake!"

A side door on the building opened, letting out light and a familiar parka wrapped form.

"Sam," Sunstreaker grinned. "Never thought I'd be happy to see your aft."

"Sam?" The femme looked over at Sunstreaker. "You two…together?"

"Together?" Sunstreaker almost sighed. The femme was obviously not clocking high speeds in her processor. "We are not together. He's over there and I'm over here."

"Not like that!" She looked amused as if by some private joke. "I meant are you two dating. You know, _that_ kind of together."

"No!" Sunstreaker spat out, disgusted. "He's a friend of my friend, the one with the Camaro. By Primus, femme, that's just revolting. Me and Sam? Never."

"Okay, okay," she sat back and stared at the dashboard. "Just…what do I do now?"

"Good question," Sunstreaker muttered as Sam trudged closer. "Let me do the talking. Even Sam knows I've never let anyone in…uh, drive my car."

He felt a mix of shame and irritation flood his processors as Sam walked closer. The human stopped when Sunstreaker opened the passenger door and the expression on Sam's tanned face was priceless when Sunstreaker's holoform stepped out.

"S…Sunstreaker…?"

The mech swiftly shut his own door and glared at the human. "Where are the others."

"They're inside but…" Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Why the holoform? I don't get it."

_And it begins_, Sunstreaker thought darkly. "I had…difficulties. Prime and Ratchet already know."

"Know what?" The human looked confused. "They haven't been able to reach you for the last hour. Optimus was about to go out himself to look for you."

Icy coldness swept through him, and it had nothing doing with the slush that was practically welded to his frame. "What are you _talking __**about**_?" Sunstreaker hissed at the human. "I've been talking with Prime _and_ Ratchet! Prime himself told me to let _that_ slagging human," at this he pointed back to his alt, "drive me – _**ME**_ – down here! So what in the Pit are _you_ talking about, squishie?!"

"Wait…wait, you? YOU let a human drive you?!" He laughed. "Oh, man, that's priceless! It's…" Sam saw the murderous expression on the mech's holoform and coughed. "I mean, damn, that sucks. You want Prime out here?"

"Yes, by all means, send out the thirty foot tall robot that was predominantly visible in the ruins of Chicago. I'm sure the femme won't fry a processor over that."

Sam blinked. "You let a _girl_ drive you?"

Sunstreaker's engine revved loudly and harshly, at the same time that he bellowed out, "PRIME!"

* * *

Beth jumped when the Lamborghini's engine roared to life. It had been discomforting enough to see the transmission shift into park, but the engine was a whole other matter. Though it felt stupid to even think it, to her the engine sounded very pissed off.

When the guy had walked out of the building, Beth had seen that the interior had been brightly lit, though for some reason the light wasn't seen through the windows. She knew the inside of the building was all open, like an empty warehouse. But she thought she'd seen…something. Something big and metal.

But she knew that there weren't any metal things in that building, like support beams. Then again, she hadn't been inside the historic building since she'd shopped at the craft sales held there in the summer. It was possible that someone had done some renovation or added support beams.

Just then she heard Late bellow something, but she couldn't make out the word or words. Indecision warred within her. Get out or stay in? Was the guy who had come out of the building the Camaro guy? But no, Late had said this guy's name was Sam, not B.

The Lamborghini suddenly shook and trembled around her, which made up her mind as to what she should do. She reached out and tugged at the door handle. For a second it did nothing and, slightly panicked, Beth tugged even harder. She looked up and saw Late glance back at her with a glare and suddenly the door opened.

Cold air spilled inside the warm cab of the car and snow nearly as deep as the door frame greeted her. Taking a breath, she stepped out and cautiously stepped around the vehicle's open door. Since she didn't have a key for the exotic car, she had to assume that Late had the key on him. To avoid a catastrophe of a key locked in a car, she left the driver's door open.

"Hey, hi," she ventured and both guys turned her way. She gave a little wave. "I'm Beth."

"Nice catch," The new guy winked at Late. "She know all about…everything?"

"Nothing," Late snapped. "And it stays that way."

A spark of anxiety flared to life within her. Beth's conscious crowed about being right. Late _was_ some kind of nutcase, and so were his friends. What kind of "everything" did the new guy mean? Whatever it was, it was true. Late hadn't said a thing, other than a few insults and snarky comments.

"You know, I'm just gonna…gonna bail, okay?" And she was already edging away, towards the road. She could call a cab or…_**something**_. Surely there was some cab company that was nuts enough to be out in a snowstorm.

Late spun around and the new guy was staring at her as well. "What?" The word was sub-zero from his lips.

"Yeah, so, I'm glad you made it to your friends," Beth focused on being as unthreatening as she could. "I know my way home from here so…"

"What game are you playing, femme?" Late turned around and stalked towards her. "You said it would take you an hour to walk home when we were back up _there_," he pointed towards both the bridge and hill they had come from, which were both still in view from the parking lot. "So this distance would take you more hours than that, plus it's cold and you are not properly attired."

"So?" She couldn't help the twinge of surliness.

"You're fond of hypothermia?" He shrugged. "Whatever. Knock yourself out, femme."

Something in Beth bristled. "My name is _not_ femme! What does that even _mean_?"

"It means whatever you think it means."

The other guy looked back at the partially open door and then faced Late. "Uh, things are just about to get started and…"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Beth blurted out, throwing a hand out onto the roof of the car to steady herself when she slipped a little. The snow beneath her feet was thick, with an icy base that would make walking home a chore. She was distinctly worried that she might freeze to death.

Late tensed. "Hands. Off. **The**. _**Car**_."

When she saw even the new guy tense, though seemingly in apprehension as opposed to Late's aggression, Beth felt a little thrill of fear race up her spine. "Seriously, there's something really wrong with you." Just then she swore she felt the metal vibrate slightly beneath her gloved hand. "And this car! What's going on with this freaking car?"

The slight scowl on Late's handsome face was scary. "Just…hands off. _Now_."

"Fine, whatever," Beth made a slight show of holding her hands away from the car. "Next time I'll just fall on my ass."

This time Late looked confused. "What does a donkey have anything to do with this?"

Beth gawked at him. "You are the…the _strangest_ guy I've ever met."

"Dude, things have to happen _now_." The new guy said it in an urgent tone. "At the risk of my own life, do something with her."

"Excuse you?" Beth demanded huffily, and when both males looked at her, she felt her annoyance turn to dread.

Late walked towards her. "You shouldn't have come. You shouldn't be here. Why are you here?" The tone of his voice was odd, almost confused. He seemed suddenly uncertain as to why she was among them.

"You couldn't drive in the snow, remember?" Beth breathed out, watching as it fogged white in the cold air. "You were stuck." Her own tone of voice was only a step above pleading, and though she hated to sound like that, she really hoped she hadn't stumbled into some sort of illegal situation. And she kind of felt more and more like she had.

"I know," Late smiled, almost sadly. "And now you're the one who's stuck."

When he strode closer to her, Beth panicked and took a fast step back. Too fast and all in the wrong conditions and in the wrong direction.

She slipped and fell, felt a jarring pain of her head hitting something at the same moment that she saw a flash of white, and then no more.

* * *

Oooh, am I mean, or what? So, Sunstreaker has finally caught up with the others. But I wonder...has someone else also caught up with Prime and the others?

And while _we_ know that Sunstreaker isn't a bad guy (aww, you're not, not really, Sunshine!), Beth hasn't got a clue as to who, or what, he really is. That makes it fun, right? lol

The Pump House _does_ exist, but I'm taking great artistic liberties with it. Beth is right, it is old, but not 1700's old. It is, however, an historical landmark.

I think this chapter was a little short, but in the long run, it made sense to end it at this point.

Next up, lots of fun in the snow. Yes, Sunstreaker, even _more_ snow!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Enter the Warp**

* * *

A/N: Eek, my first fight scene...scary...

To those of you off on Monday for Labor Day, be it school or work, I hope you have a fantastic, long, super special awesome weekend!

* * *

Sunstreaker cursed when the femme slipped, then flinched when the back of her head struck the edge of his still open driver's door. The blow was audible to him and Sam, but Sunstreaker felt it when her organic head hit his door. To clarify…just _barely_ felt it. Cybertronian metals were very tough indeed.

His systems scanned her, though they weren't even close to the medical precision of Ratchet's and…

By the Pit, he was stupid! Of course Ratchet would be better at this. Sunstreaker was irritated that he was thinking as if he were still alone and stranded.

Sunstreaker straightened and glared at Sam. "You, pick her up and bring her inside."

"Me?" Sam gaped. "Why not _you_?"

"Because I…" Sunstreaker gritted his nonexistent jaw. "I can't…"

"You have hands," Sam folded his arms over his chest. "You do it."

Sunstreaker resisted the urge to blast this annoying human away. It was difficult. "Slagger," he sneered at the human. "I lack the proper modification that gives my holoform substance."

"So drop the holo and pick her up in your base mode."

The mech glared at the squishy. Fragging irritating... "I don't want to shift out of my alt." Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "Besides, I've never picked up a human before. I _will _squish her."

Sam groaned.

"Or you could just have Ratchet come out here and get her."

"He's busy setting stuff up," Sam sighed. "I'll get her."

Sunstreaker smirked.

"But you _owe_ me."

"I highly doubt that, squishy."

Sam seemed to consider his options, then looked back over his shoulder and called out to the one mech Sunstreaker didn't want to bear witness to his weakness. "Hey, Bee, got a minute?"

The black and yellow mech, in his base mode, peeked through the door, which was big enough for a semi to get through. He nodded at Sam, "What do you need?"

"Can you help me get her into the building?" Sam gestured to the fallen woman. "And fast, too. It's too cold to be laying in this crap. It's not the beach, which is awesome to lay out on."

Sunstreaker vented an annoyed sigh. What the squishy didn't know was how irritating sand was. He and Sides had experience with sand from another organic planet. It wasn't inhabited by intelligent life forms, not as though this planet had much intelligence either, and that planet had its version of sand. If one wasn't careful, it could get _everywhere._

Speaking of Sideswipe…

_**:Sideswipe…you there, bro?: **_

Nothing.

_Should've known that would be too easy, _Sunstreaker thought sarcastically. He watched as Bumblebee slowly coasted through the wide open doors in his alt form, carefully plowed through the snow until he rounded Sunstreaker and paused when he reached Sam, and then opened his passenger door.

It was almost painful to watch Sam struggle with picking up and partially dragging, partially shoving, the femme onto the passenger's seat of Bumblebee's cab. The scout had folded the seat back to be as flat as possible, which was a feat surely not in the original design of the Camaro form he chose. As soon as the femme was inside, Sam shut the door and quickly got into the driver's side. It irked Sunstreaker to see how easy Bumblebee made it look as he carefully drove back into the building.

_Slagging showoff._

But Sunstreaker forced himself to remain calm as he dissolved the holoform and followed in Bumblebee's wake as best as he could.

At least the little fragger cleared the way inside.

Now he could _finally_ talk to Optimus, faceplate to faceplate.

* * *

Voices echoed through Beth's mind as she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing. It wasn't the comforting purr of Princess Fuzzy Pants, nor was it the annoying talk radio show she programmed her alarm clock to wake her to.

These voices were…deep, resonating.

Saying the _weirdest_ things.

"_It's really nice and all that you got her to drive you here, but things gotta get started!"_

"_Slagging aft for processors left me behind!"_

"_Trusting the human was a good choice. Scaring her was not."_

"_If anyone would like to spare a klik, she's waking up."_

Waking up was the last thing Beth wanted to do. She groaned and squeezed her eyes tighter.

"Are you awake _yet_, femme?" This voice sounded annoyed and a tad condescending.

"Shut up, Late," Beth muttered, keeping her eyes closed. "You're a very bad dream that I want to wake up from."

"Late?" A younger male voice sounded confused. "Why does she keep calling you late?"

Still not opening her eyes, Beth decided to reply before Late could. "Because when I told him my name and asked him for his, he said he was late to see his friends."

There was such a long pause that Beth reluctantly opened her eyes. What she saw made her frown. "What the…"

She seemed to be in some sort of vehicle, though she wasn't sure…what. She saw a small number of drawers, and she seemed to be on some sort of a slightly raised bed that happened to have…wheels…?

"A gurney?" Beth sat up fast, then winced and resumed laying back. Her head swam and stars briefly dotted her vision. "What happened?"

"Uh, you hit your head," The male voice was sort of familiar, and a face soon appeared to confirm that it was the Camaro guy. He heaved himself up and into the opened back doors of the vehicle and shrugged. "Sorry, but you kinda fell and hit your head. We figured that it would be best if you weren't just passed out in Su…in the Lambo."

Beth winced again at another flash of pain in her temples and rubbed at the left side of her head. "And you guys just happened to have an ambulance?"

"Sorta," the guy also winced, though Beth thought it wasn't in regards to head pain. "It's, uh, it…"

"It's mine," another male appeared, though this one seemed to be only a few years older than Beth. "I'm sorry about your head."

"Hey, Will," the first guy looked relieved. "You cool from here?"

"Yeah, Sam, get going. Prime's looking for you."

_Sam…_, Beth's mind filled in the little void that had been the first guy's identity. That's right. That's what Late had called him. Sam.

Sam flashed a grin at the new guy and hopped out of the vehicle and out of sight.

The new guy, Will, was standing in the vehicle with room to spare, and he looked like a pretty tall guy. He walked closer and casually leaned against the counter. "So, you feeling okay?"

"No."

"You a local?"

"Yeah." Beth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her slightly pounding head said it wouldn't be a good idea.

Will shook his head slightly. "How did you get involved in this?"

"Late crashed his car on my front lawn."

That had Will chuckling. "I didn't know that. Normally he's…he's a very good driver."

"Just not in snow."

"Nope." Another chuckle. "His brother's gonna love that."

"He has a brother?"

"Twin, actually."

"Good Lord. _Two_ of them?" Beth couldn't help the slightly horrified thought of two Late's trying, and failing, to drive in the snow.

"You have no idea."

Then Beth frowned. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Um…" Will hesitated. "He's outside. He's sort of our security force."

"Security?" Beth's eyes widened. "Late?"

"He's very good at what he does."

"As long as he's not driving in the snow," Beth sighed. "I guess I'm stuck here until you guys are done, huh?"

A new voice echoed around them. "It is best that you are not moved."

"Who was _that_?" Beth didn't see anyone else around, though with the rate men were suddenly appearing in her life, he could be anywhere.

"That's the true owner of this vehicle."

"I thought you said _you_ were."

"Well…" Will shrugged. "We're sort of temporary partners."

"He's a doctor?"

A nod. "Very good at what he does. If he says you should stay here and stay still, it's in your best interest."

* * *

Sunstreaker stared at the river. It was dark, which matched his mood, but it shimmered in the moonlight. He didn't feel nearly as shimmery. "She can't stay here."

"There is no other choice," Prime said flatly. "You brought her here, Sunstreaker. It was, perhaps, not the wisest of decisions."

Both were in their base forms, standing on the only bare patch of ground in the area. While the femme had been offline, or unconscious as Lennox wanted it to be termed, Sunstreaker had paced so much in one place that he'd worn the snow down to the ground. The location had been sheltered from the brunt of the storm, so there had barely been a dusting of snow, which made for a good area to shift out of his alt and try out a little snow under his feet.

Sunstreaker had been very reluctant to leave his alt form and with good reason. The first time he'd stood on his own two feet, he'd almost fallen on his aft. Only millennia of training kept him upright. Still and all, to almost fall was, to him, just as bad as falling at all.

With bare ground beneath his feet, Sunstreaker vented a sigh. "What about Skywarp?"

"He could pose a problem," Optimus said. "_If_ he is here. You are not certain that he is what the human saw, are you?"

"No," Sunstreaker shook his head. "I wasn't looking when she had. Not to mention that my scanners were malfunctioning the entire time."

"A problem in and of itself." Optimus was silent and, for a moment, both mechs watched the snow as it continued to fall. It wasn't a heavy amount of precipitation, and this time the snow was tiny and very crystalline. It looked almost like dust found at the end of a comet's tail.

"Prime…" Sunstreaker hesitated then continued. "If it wasn't you and Ratchet that I was talking to over my comm…who _was_ I talking to?"

Sunstreaker had filled in his leader with all of the unusual occurrences, and it was something that had given pause to the taller mech.

"With everything that has gone on this past orn, it would not surprise me in the least to discover that it was Primus who has been meddling within our lives."

The golden mech scoffed. "Why would _Primus_ want anything to do with _me_?"

"Why not?" Optimus asked and looked at the front-liner. "_Every_ Cybertronian is important, Sunstreaker. And at this time, when we are about to bring back one of our own from Primus himself, why wouldn't he want something to do with you?"

"But why have a _human_ assist me?"

Again, Optimus hesitated. "Perhaps Primus really does have a sense of humor."

_:Optimus,: _Ratchet comm'ed both Optimus and Sunstreaker. _:Sam says that everything is ready. We need the Matrix.:_

_:He has found what he needed?:_

_:Yes.:_

Sunstreaker didn't need a bond with Optimus to sense how his leader must feel. He'd bet his Prime felt a mix of hopefulness, anxiety, and joy. How could a mech feel anything but that? A fallen companion was about to be returned to them, but would Ironhide be the same?

Primus willing, Ironhide would be alert, functioning, and ready to kick some 'Con aft.

"Sunstreaker, remain here and be on alert." It was an order that Sunstreaker really didn't need to be told. It was, of course, obvious. "If anything shows up that you cannot handle yourself, comm Bumblebee immediately."

He nodded to Optimus as the larger mech strode by and turned the corner to enter the building.

For a moment, Sunstreaker was lost with his own thoughts. That Primus himself had been talking to him, and not his Prime and CMO, had Sunstreaker's processor in a whirl. It wasn't that he questioned Primus' existence; it was that he never thought himself _worthy_ of being spoken to by Primus. He'd thought that if their creator would be talking to any mech, that it would be a Prime.

It was clear to Sunstreaker that it was Primus who was had done two things. The first was that Primus had somehow manipulated the snow. Sunstreaker wasn't sure _how_ Primus had done it, but there could be no other answer. It all added up. Secondly was that Primus had been keeping him from contacting his twin.

_Which is incredibly unfair_, Sunstreaker thought sullenly. _Sideswipe is probably going __**nuts**__ from this silence._

The thought made Sunstreaker angry and a bit anxious. He didn't want his twin being upset or jumping to conclusions over something like this.

"You better have a good reason for this slag," Sunstreaker muttered angrily.

"I'm sure he does."

Sunstreaker looked down to see that Squishy Lennox had walked around the corner of the building. The golden mech vented a sigh. "What would _you_ know?"

Lennox shrugged. "Maybe lots, maybe nothing. Depends on what it is you think I would know."

He scowled. "I could squish you. Or I could blast you with any one of my weapons."

"Which would piss off Optimus, my wife, _and_ your brother." The human looked up at him with a slight grin. "And out of those three, you'd _better_ be most afraid of my wife. She'd kick your tin can ten ways to your afterlife."

"It's called the Well, squishy." Sunstreaker turned away from the human and frowned at the far side of the riverbank. His optics gazed skyward and he set his scanners – which were fully functional – on the highest level that he dared. He wasn't going to be taken by surprise by anything.

A slight noise had his gaze whipping back to where Squishy Lennox was at, only to find that he was gone. Sunstreaker's energon ran cold when he realized there were no footprints in the snow. He cautiously strode forward to the point where the human had been at, and then walked further to peer around the corner of the building to where the entrance was. To the entrance that was the only way in or out of the building.

No footprints in the snow, other than his own tire tracks that resulted in getting to this point and Optimus' fresh tracks back inside, and there was no sign that the human had walked in Optimus' tracks or been there at all. The only tracks in front of the building were his, Bumblebee's, and those of his Prime.

_:Ratchet, is Lennox with you?:_

_:Yes, Sunstreaker, why?:_

His optics narrowed. _:Has he been with you the entire time?:_

_:He has been talking with Sam and Bumblebee.:_

Sunstreaker vented cautiously, feeling slightly annoyed. _:Has he been __**near**__you__ this entire time?:_

The questions were obviously beginning to exasperate the medic. _:Yes, Sunstreaker, he __**has**__. Is something going on out there? Do you need for me to send Bumblebee to assist you?:_

_:__**No!**__: _Sunstreaker _definitely_ didn't want Stumblebee by his side. He had a sinking feeling that the yellow scout would only drive circles around him. There wasn't a fragging chance that he wanted to give Bumblebee more reasons to gloat over his lack of snow prowess.

_:Then what's got __**your**__ processor in a bind?:_

_:Nothing!: _Sunstreaker snapped and vented sharply. _:I'll call you if I need help, and right now I don't.:_ Without waiting for a reply, the golden mech cut the comm link. He knew he'd get a wrench to the helm later, but right now his processor was on other things.

Namely what the _**frag**_ had been talking to him if it wasn't Squishy Lennox? Sunstreaker didn't like being toyed with and this whole mission had been steadily going downhill – no pun intended – ever since his tires drove off the plane.

Suddenly, Sunstreaker felt a rise in power all around him. It almost felt magnetic, but his spark felt no twinge of danger. This was different, unusual, and his spark wasn't afraid because he recognized it for what it was.

The power of the Matrix.

This was the time in which he had to be the most focused. If Skywarp truly was flitting around, now would be the time that crazy mech would try to do something.

However it took exactly two minutes and twenty seconds before his scanners picked up the faintest trace of an energy signature.

Decepticon.

It was _there_ and then it wasn't.

Forgoing his swords for his pulse cannon, he transformed his arms to power up his canons – which were decidedly not as huge as Ironhide's – and took comfort in the slight warming up whine that came from his weapons.

Skywarp was crazy and a tricky son of a glitch. Sunstreaker cautiously walked around the building, not taking notice how the snow compacted underfoot, not noticing that he was successfully _walking_ in the snow, and heightened his awareness. It was tricky to do so, since the power being raised by the active Matrix was skewing his scanners just a touch, but it had to be done.

His efforts didn't go to waste.

A colorful purple plasma blast struck the snow to his left and left a steaming puddle of water. Instantly, Sunstreaker aimed in the direction of the blast, but his shot didn't hit anything and the brilliant gold energy streaked off into the night sky.

"Come on out, you warped glitch," Sunstreaker taunted, looking around the vicinity. His scanners scrutinized the area continuously, from sky to river to parking lot and back in a loop, but found nothing.

"Well that's not very nice!" The voice came from his left and Sunstreaker aimed both arms in that direction. Hovering not twenty feet away, in his F-22 alt mode, was Skywarp.

For a black and purple jet, he looked pretty indignant.

Sunstreaker smirked at the 'Con. "What the frag are _**you**_ doing here?"

"I was just passing by and thought I'd take in the scenery," Skywarp replied in a neutral tone that made Sunstreaker instantly wary. "Just, you know, touring the country, getting my bearings. And then I spotted all of you here and decided to check it out."

"Get lost."

In the blink of an eye, Skywarp transformed into his mech mode, still hovering, and stared at Sunstreaker with a thoughtful expression. "I know you just got on this planet, too, so what are _you_ doing here?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Assisting my Prime." He glared coldly at Skywarp and then smirked, just a little. "Who could _you_ possibly be assisting?"

Now, Skywarp didn't have a reputation as being the brightest star in the universe, but he wasn't a complete dimwit. He knew an insult mixed with fishing for information when he heard it, and the 'Con glared back at the golden mech. "Careful what you wish for, Autobot, you might just get it."

"Well, I _keep_ wishing for you to be offlined like Starscream, but I've yet to get that wish fulfilled."

Skywarp fired without warning, but Sunstreaker was anticipating something like this. His battle programs were in full force and as soon as the energy blasts left Skywarp's arm cannons, Sunstreaker was leaping to the side. However, there was still a good deal of snow on the ground. He remained on his feet, but slid across the parking lot with a very slight shower of sparks as metal finally met asphalt. As soon as he slowed down, which was a mere klik since he had started to slide, he shoved off the ground in a move he hoped would work. It did and he was airborne, firing at Skywarp as he was twisting in midair up and over the surprised Seeker's shots.

The purple and black mech was taken by surprise, as he clearly didn't think Sunstreaker would have recovered from the snow slide. Two of the three plasma shots Sunstreaker had fired struck Skywarp's arms.

Or to be more precise, Skywarp's twin arm cannons took the damage.

There were matching explosions and Skywarp howled with pain.

Sunstreaker straightened and his optics locked on Skywarp. The 'Con was sparking at the wrists, but didn't look as if he was going to back down just yet.

"You don't really think I'm gonna give up that easily, do you?" Skywarp's grimace turned into a glare. It must've hurt like a glitch to change weapons, but his right wrist reformed and a sniping gun simultaneously shifted into existence and fired at Sunstreaker.

It was futile as the golden mech was already on the move, leaping to the left to easily avoid the resulting explosion, and shifted back into his alt mode and spun around the corner of the building. "C'mon, Skydork, catch me if you can!"

* * *

The pounding in Beth's head was matched only by a series of what she could barely begin to identify as explosions. They seemed to be coming from outside, but what could've caused them?

She tried to sit up, but her head was spinning.

"Don't even try sitting up. I have no desire to clean anything you vomit due to your own obstinacy."

"Your bedside manners are really appalling," Beth said with a slight groan as she slowly fell back onto the gurney. The medic who owned this ambulance went by the nickname of Ratchet. The name made her think of mechanics more than medical, but to each his own. "What's going on out there?"

"There's a slight security issue that Su…Late is dealing with."

Beth noted the correction that Ratchet had made to Late's name and she wondered if the medic had been about to say Late's true name. Or maybe even a nickname. For all she knew, it could be a codename. Sam had also made that mistake earlier.

Another sudden explosion rocked the building, causing the ambulance to tremble all around her.

She felt a rush of fear and she was glad she was laying down. She'd felt her face pale at the sound, and she wondered if the three hundred year old structure would be solid enough to withstand all the abuse it was taking. What else could the explosions and pounding mean?

What the hell was going _on_ out there?

"I'm not sure," Ratchet said in a low voice.

"Sorry, I hadn't realized I said that out loud," Beth flushed when she realized she'd asked the same thing twice.

"Don't worry about it."

A hand reached out for her and Beth shrieked in fear and tried to pull back, but then saw that the hand was attached to an arm, the arm to a body, and the body to a rather handsome middle aged man. His grey streaked dark hair was short, but it was the scowl and stern expression that really worried her.

"Sorry I haven't seen you closer sooner," and of course the name embroidered on his medical coat read **RATCHET** in big blue lettering on the upper left side of his coat. "Will and Sam seemed to have had things covered."

"You normally let a military guy and a college kid attend to your patients?" Beth couldn't help the aghast and slightly incredulous tone in her voice.

"Sam isn't in college," Ratchet shone a light into her left, and then right, eye. "Far from it, actually."

"Still and all, if something had happened to me because they didn't know what to do, I could've sued you for all you had."

"Well I'm not that worried then. I don't have much."

"Excuse me?"

"Not to mention that I've been friends with Will and Sam long enough to know that they know what they're doing. Besides, they've learned from me, which is more than any doctor could possibly dream of."

"Holy cow, I've been holed up in House's ambulance." Beth's eyes were wide. "I'm doomed."

"House?" Ratchet's seemed to stare off into the distance for a second before snorting and shaking his head. "I don't know if I should be insulted or complimented. At any rate, your life is hardly in any danger from me."

Another explosion.

Another ambulance shaking session.

"Our security expert is another matter," Ratchet scowled. "That lugnut is going to bring this whole place down on us before we finish up here."

"What?" Beth was utterly lost. "What are you guys doing here, anyway?"

Ratchet's scowl vanished and was replaced with a somber expression. "Recovering a lost comrade."

"A lost…comrade?" Beth blinked. "What has Late gotten me into?"

"Something that is very much over your head," Ratchet took a step back. "And I'm afraid we can't have you knowing too much more. It's not safe for you."

"I already know _that_ much," Beth muttered sarcastically.

"Which is why it would be safer if you slept through the rest of this," Ratchet leaned back against a counter. "Starting now."

"Now? I can't fall asleep just like that, boss." The sweet scent of roses tickled at her nose and Beth wondered at the aroma.

"I'm not the boss, though I'm sure he'd agree with me," Ratchet chuckled. "Not to mention that yes, you can fall asleep just like that."

Beth blinked repeatedly as her eyes suddenly burned and her eyelids felt heavy. "What did you…do to me?"

"Sleeping gas," Ratchet smiled at her, though it was oddly reassuring and not frightening. "My apologies, Beth, but some things were not meant to be seen."

The last thing that Beth thought about was the gas. Why wasn't it affecting Ratchet?

Then everything went dark.

* * *

"You're boring me, Skywarp," Sunstreaker drawled out. "And you know what happens when I get bored, don't ya?"

Sunstreaker's battle processors were running at maximum power, constantly going through schematics and possibilities. Eliminating one plan in favor of another. Continually decrypting probable places that the jet might reappear at.

Not to mention figuring out the best places to get a hit on the Seeker.

"How _is_ ol' TC doing these days?"

That did it. Skywarp popped into view in jet mode, looking pretty pissy, and screeched out an, "It's _**none**_ of your business!" before vanishing again.

"Aww, c'mon, Warp!" Sunstreaker strode forward confidently. He was enjoying how his feet met asphalt instead of snow. The best part about this little battle was that the snow wasn't standing much of a chance against their weapons, and that made things easier for the golden mech. "It's been ages since we've seen each other. Can't blame a mech for trying to see how you've been. Catch up on what's been going on."

Skywarp appeared again, this time in mech form, and hovered about ten feet above the ground. "What could you _possibly_ want to catch up with me about?"

Sunstreaker leaned forward and said, "I've come up with this great new move that I thought you'd just love to see!"

"If you think I'm worried about your little 'Jet Judo' you're wrong," Skywarp made little quote motions with his slender fingers. "I know you can't do that sort of thing without your twin."

A completely out of place smile flickered across Sunstreaker's faceplates. "That's where you missed out on what I said."

Dawning crept up on Skywarp. "Oh, nooo…"

And Sunstreaker executed a flurry of moves that began with a roundhouse kick to Skywarp's head, which flung the lightweight mech towards the building. Before the Seeker could crash into the old building, Sunstreaker was there with an elegant flip that ended with his hands skimming along the top of Skywarp's back, which drove the jet hard onto the asphalt.

Sunstreaker rebounded off of the Seeker to land lightly on his feet. He dusted off his hands and smirked at the downed jet. "And _that_ is why I called it a _new_ move, Skywarp. New means you haven't seen it before."

Shrieks of metal (and pained Seeker) and sparks filled the air as Cybertronian metal met asphalt.

"You fragger!" Skywarp shrieked as he staggered to his feet. He clutched his head with one hand and his chestplate with the other. "You dented my helm!" He looked down at his chestplate and his optics widened in horror.

"Aww, that looks like it's gotta hurt," Sunstreaker tsked at the damage. "Guess that'll take a lot of buffing, huh?"

Red optics glared daggers at Sunstreaker before dimming for a clik. "This isn't over, Sunstreaker."

He shrugged. "Sure, why not. I'm up for round two if you are."

"Well not now! I have – " Skywarp's optics dimmed and brightened again. "Okay, fine, I'm _coming_!"

That caught Sunstreaker's interest. The jet was obviously answering a comm request…but from who?

"Sooo…who you talking to?" Sunstreaker's optics brightened. "Was it TC? I bet it was."

"No, it wasn't."

"I bet it was Hook. It was Hook, wasn't it?"

"No."

"Was it Ravage?"

"_Slag_ no!" Skywarp leaped off the ground, transforming as he did. There were scrapes and scratched paint (despite the fact that he was a black jet, you could see gouges in the paint and it looked pretty awful) that almost made Sunstreaker feel bad for the 'Con.

Almost.

A spark flickered at a scrape along the Seeker's right wing and Sunstreaker pushed his luck again.

"I bet you were talking to –"

"I wasn't talking to anyo…I SAID I'LL BE THERE, SCREAMER…er…" The jet's engines stuttered for a clik. "Er…mech who definitely _isn't_ Starscream…seeing as how Starscream had his head blown off…and both optics busted out…and…"

There was a high pitched relay of Cybertronian that Sunstreaker winced at. Literally, since it was quite painful to his audio receivers. This time he _did_ feel bad for Skywarp.

"Hey, tell Starscream I said hi."

"Frag off," Skywarp muttered, right before he vanished with a loud popping sound.

With the battle over, Sunstreaker felt his battle programming powering down, never off, just lower than a nano-clik ago. Suddenly he was aware of other sounds, or more the absence of sounds.

The snow seemed to have muffled a lot of noise, save for the gentle gurgling of the river.

And the whining sound that was coming from the old building. It wasn't the building itself, and it wasn't that of a mech. It was the low hum of power.

"Looks like Skydork left just in time," Sunstreaker murmured. With one last look around, he walked around to the front of the building and into it.

_:Sunstreaker to Optimus,: _without waiting for an answer, and not really expecting one, Sunstreaker continued, _:Threat neutralized. You're safe to proceed.:_

* * *

So, yeah, Sunstreaker figured it out. Primus has a sense of humor and he was messing with the comms and the weather. Primus is just like that.

Have a good weekend everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Ironhide**

* * *

A/N: Please keep in mind that Beth has no idea that any of the people she's met are anything but human. She'll learn differently by the end of this chapter :D

Also, for the whole "bringing back Ironhide" thing, there's a song from the Transformers score (the first movie) called "Optimus" that highly inspired the most pivotal scene in this story. You can find it on Youtube. If you can't find it and want to listen to it, PM me and I'll send you a link to one of the videos I saw on Youtube.

Yeah, uh, Sunshine will probably be a liiiiiiittle out of character in this chapter. Sorry, it couldn't be helped :(

Warnings: Beth has a bit of a potty mouth, but then again, she's a little freaked out.

* * *

Awareness came slowly to Beth. She was in a dark, cold place and when she struggled to sit up, she found that she was not in the ambulance. Also, her jacket had been taken off of her and used as a blanket. A quick look around had her realizing she was in an office of some sort. Whoever had put her here, and she had to think it was Ratchet, had placed her on a couch. It wasn't a nice living room sort of couch. This was a second hand, vinyl covered, hard cushioned couch.

She swung her legs over the side and slowly sat up. One hand raised to feel the back of her head, but there were no bumps and her head didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. Will had said that she had hit her head after falling. She was grateful that the headache she had earlier was now gone.

Beth stretched experimentally and was glad when she felt no bruising. With her eyes adjusted to the dark, she stood up, using the back of the couch as a bit of leverage. She was relieved that she wasn't light headed or dizzy, but she was cold. Hastily, she tugged her jacket back on and sighed as she warmed back up. Pulling her iphone from her pocket (and relieved that it was still there _and_ undamaged), she flicked up the control center to use the phone as a flashlight. The light from the phone lit up the place enough for her to find the door leading out.

The knob rattled a little under her hand as she turned it, and when she pulled on it she was relieved to find that it wasn't locked. The door was silent as it swung into the room, and she was slightly surprised to find that it revealed the spacious main area of the historic Pump House. She must've been in one of the offices of the historical society that maintained the place.

Apparently the building was used for a bit of storage during the winter months. There were boxes stacked pretty high in places, mingled with what must've been artifacts from the building itself. Weird machinery and cast iron things she couldn't begin to describe.

Suddenly there were a series of slight poundings that had the voice of Jurassic Park's Ian Malcolm running through her mind.

"_It's an impact tremor, that's what it is... I'm fairly alarmed here."_

Motion from the corner of Beth's eye had her glad she was still behind some of the boxes. She ducked instinctively as something _big_ strode past her hiding place. Pure curiosity had her cautiously looking out after it, then back the way it had come. It would suck if there were more than one of those things coming in after the other and she got herself caught.

Or stepped on.

But she didn't see any more of them. It had walked in from outside. The door was still open, letting in the cold nighttime air. She looked back, saw that the huge bipedal creature had rounded a stack of boxes.

Something about the huge thing tugged at her mind.

The boxes annoyed her. What the hell could be in the boxes that they were stacked so high? Eerily, it almost reminded her of the scene in the _Ghostbusters_ movie, when the guys had gone into the library. Stacks of books, piled higher than any person could stack without a ladder. That's what the boxes reminded her of. It was creepy.

Nothing about this night made any sense.

_It still feels like such a dream, _Beth thought absently. _I should run out that door right now, but…I can't leave Ratchet, Will, Sam, and Late to whatever it was that walked in here. _

_Can I?_

But she couldn't, and she knew she couldn't. Late might be an asshole, but he still owed her a ride back. And the other guys seemed decent enough. Even if she couldn't help them out against that huge thing, at least she could see what happened and try to get help.

Maybe if that thing hadn't seen her, she could hide and make it out of here alive, and then…

All rational thought fled Beth's mind when she peeked around the corner the huge creature had gone.

Because at the far side of the room, which wasn't far enough in her opinion, were _three_ others, and one was even bigger than the first one she'd seen.

Beth ducked back behind the stack of boxes that hid her well, yet she could still see some of what the huge creatures were doing. She covered her mouth with her right hand and forced her heart to slow down from the rapid pounding it had started. Freaking out would _not _help her and she didn't want a peep to escape her mouth.

It dawned on her then just where she had seen such a being, and she felt even more horrified and even a little sick to her stomach.

Chicago.

Just that one word had her heart speeding up in sheer terror. Alien robots that had trashed Chicago, killed thousands of people in horrible ways, and almost destroyed everything about humanity. Scientists had even speculated that the huge form of another planet had been just within reach of the Earth, but it had vanished.

How the hell had she forgotten about that? It had been on the news nightly for months. Even now, just three years past, things were only starting to quiet down. Three years ago, humanity believed itself to be alone in the universe. Three years ago the aliens proved humanity wrong, and in the worst possible way. Even though there had been reports that _good_ alien robots had helped to defeat the bad ones, and even though they had been contracted to help with the reconstruction of Chicago, Beth sincerely wondered if there was much difference between good and bad. Then again, how could huge alien robots be good or bad? Could robots even be capable of feeling emotions?

She'd always avoided watching movies with aliens attacking for a reason. The only alien movie she'd ever liked had been Men In Black and that was because she really liked both Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, and also it was more of a comedy than a horror drama action flick like her siblings enjoyed.

Then she chastised herself. _Seriously, Beth, how stupid __**are**__ you? Stop lollygagging and get the hell out of here before you get stepped on or vaporized! Will Smith isn't gonna save you from the aliens and then use that flashy thing on you to make you forget what you've seen._

Blinking rapidly, she debated her options. There was no way she could get out of the immediate area fast. The snow and the cold would slow her down a lot. But there was an apartment complex nearby. If she could get to there and hide out without being seen, if she could locate someone with an open door, maybe these aliens would leave without realizing she'd even been there. If none of them had seen her in the building, which seemed to be obvious since she was still alive, she felt that she had a pretty good chance of not getting caught.

She felt a flicker of guilt for not looking for the other people, but Beth didn't _know_ them. And if Late and the others could get to their vehicles, then surely they had a chance to get away from the aliens as well. For all she knew they could be planning similarly, or even have left already. Maybe _she_ was the one that had been left behind.

She thought about Late and how he had been dealing with a security issue earlier. Doubt tugged at her mind, and she wondered a bit more about what kind of security issue it could've been. When there were alien robots inside the same building she was in…

Was Late still outside doing his security thing? Or had the aliens stepped on him? Killed him? Tossed him in the river and watched as he drowned? Would they have laughed at his death throes? Beth hadn't been able to get a fix on his personality, but he seemed cold and guarded at the same time. She hoped he was a nice guy, but he seemed so touchy at times that she couldn't be sure. And now she was wondering if he was dead, or prisoner, and she was going to sneak away without even trying to help.

But what could she do against huge alien robots? _Metal_ robots? She weighed one hundred and thirty pounds, and the most she knew about defending herself was playing her boxing game on her Xbox.

Taking another hopefully stealthy look around the edge of boxes, Beth could see that the creatures were suddenly illuminated by light. She frowned. On looking longer, she noticed that it wasn't light from a ceiling light, because there were no ceiling lights. One of the shorter creatures had lights on its chest that were lit up in an oddly familiar way and…

Headlights. It looked for all the world like _headlights_ and almost…

_Wait…_

Beth's mind worked overtime. She thought she remembered a news report saying that the aliens had an ability to turn into ordinary looking vehicles. Trucks, cars, even planes. So, yeah, it could be possible that those _were_ headlights.

She was suddenly feeling very out of her league.

As stealthily as she could, she studied them. The creatures looked to be made of some sort of metal and were painted in different colors. One was a greenish yellow, a second one was pure yellow but had areas of black on it, the tallest was blue and red with flames on it, and the fourth looked to be a shade of gold. All of them had blue glowing eyes, or what passed for eyes.

And then Beth noticed movement near the blue and red alien's feet. She had to sit back and clasp _**both**_ hands over her mouth, to prevent any noise, because _Will and Sam _were there as well!

Where were Ratchet and Late? Had the creatures killed them? Tossed their bodies into the river? Ground their bodies under huge metal feet like used cigarette butts? And now were Will and Sam at their mercy? Prisoners of these alien robots?

_They're so __**huge**__. They could just step on Sam and Will and not think about it at all. They probably killed Ratchet and Late just like that. What if they find me?_

Stupidity, for that was all that Beth could even think of calling what fueled her to look back around the edge of the box, had her looking once again. This time she saw that Sam had stepped forward into the center of the ring of alien robots. He held a weird looking flashlight in his hands, though it was very ornamental looking. Kind of looked like something from Star Trek. And the light came from the very center of the object.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a flashlight.

It kind of looked like a very sharp, double edged knife. With scrollwork. And blue lighting.

Sam stood by the feet of the red and blue creature, with the rest standing to form a circle of creatures, as another light came into existence. Then a shaft of light that seemed to come from the ceiling shone down on all of them. In that shaft of light, Beth could see a brilliant sphere of light, about the size of a basketball, sort of detach from the mysterious beam of light.

The sphere of light descended gently, closer and closer to Sam. He held out the dagger thing, said something that she couldn't make out, yet sounded slightly chastising, _to the ball of light_. He almost seemed to be teasing the sphere, and it seemed to respond with a crackling of static electricity that shimmered around the entire sphere.

The light within the sphere sparkled and flickered, and blue streaks of light pulsed around the sphere like lightning. It lowered more and more until it was just above Sam's head, well within arm's reach.

The dagger thing in Sam's hands seemed reached forward on its own, and as it came closer to the ball of light, more blue light streaked from inside the dagger and arced out to wrap around the ball of light, engulfing it. From where she was, Beth couldn't hear Sam, but she could hear the snaps and pops of electricity. How Sam wasn't getting shocked to death was beyond Beth's comprehension.

A breath later, Sam calmly stepped back, pulling the dagger away with him, and the ball of light rose a little more, until it was almost head high with the yellow and black creature. Dark streams began to rise up from the floor, reaching for the ball of light, and it was then that Beth noticed there was a pile of black dust on the ground.

Wind spun around the dust pile, wind that never touched any of the people or creatures, never reached Beth, and never made a sound. A tornado (for Beth had seen dust devils and this was not that. This was raw and angry and _wild_…right in front of her…) sprang up from the dust pile, circling higher and higher, eventually obliterating the ball of light, hiding it from sight.

The vortex of darkness spun and twisted, and suddenly Beth could see a mass of solid darkness at its base. The twister went at least twenty six feet high, never higher, and widened ever so slightly as it had grown in height.

Then the mass of darkness seemed to stand, and the tornado seemed to get sucked _inside_ that solid darkness, almost as if the tornado was turning into the tall dark shape.

And it was then that Beth realized that was exactly what was happening. All of the dust was turning into an alien robot. Funny…How could dust turn into an alien?

Feet supported legs which led to a torso. Arms thrust out from the side, with fists that were clenched, and what looked like guns were attached to each arm. A chest and short neck, a head…and those blazing blue eyes. Eyes that flickered from dim to bright, multiple times before illuminating brightly.

The tornado disappeared, as did the beam of light, as this new creature stood on its feet and growled out a very angry sound.

Beth didn't need to hear anything else. Sam and Will were on their own.

She _had_ to get out of here…_now_…

Anything that pissed off sounding _couldn't_ be friendly.

The easiest way of getting out was the same way the golden alien got in. She slunk around the boxes, out of sight of the aliens, and quickly crept outside. She shivered as the cold air wrapped around her, and she regretted wearing jeans. Then again, it wasn't as if she knew she would be trekking through a foot and a half of snow, trying to escape from alien robots.

Beth froze when she got a good view of the parking lot. Not only were there no cars in sight, there was hardly any snow in most of the parking lot. There was a lot of water, melted snow, but she couldn't begin to imagine _how_ the snow had been melted.

There was some damage to the asphalt, too. Chunks of it had been gouged up, scratched up, and what looked to have been blown up. There were no bits of cars, but Beth couldn't begin to imagine where the cars could've been parked. Then again, she assumed that the ambulance had been inside, so maybe the cars were there as well. The Pump House hadn't looked that big from the outside though.

Memories of loud explosions flashed to mind, and she realized that the damage to the pavement was the result of those explosions.

Late had done this? Against what? And how did that robot play into this?

It was…really a lot for Beth to process. Not to mention, there was at least a half a mile for her to walk to get to the apartment complex. She'd have to walk under the railroad bridge as well.

She sighed and started walking. If worse came to worst, she could probably hide under that bridge.

Beth was too intent on her walking to see that she was being watched.

* * *

Sunstreaker couldn't believe his optics.

The squishy – Sam – had done it! When Sunstreaker had first seen the pile of dust, all that was left of Ironhide, doubt had been the overriding emotion he'd felt. But when Ironhide's _spark_ had appeared out of nowhere, there was little for Sunstreaker to do but to realize that some things were beyond his comprehension.

And maybe Primus had a sense of adventure along with a sense of humor. Why else send them on this crazy duck hunt?

"Enough of the staring!" Ratchet bellowed as he stood close to Ironhide. "I have to scan him to make certain he's ready to fly back."

Sam sat back against Bumblebee's foot, with the yellow bot standing still above him, though it looked obvious enough that he wanted to do a lot more celebrating than standing.

"I'm _fine_, Ratchet," Ironhide growled out, "Maybe you should scan Sam instead. He looks ready to drop."

"Bah, you're not getting out of this," Ratchet pinned the black mech with a fierce stare and swiftly ran a scan. "And he's already dropped."

"I'm not a sparkling!"

"You may as well be, seeing how you're newly resurrected," the medic stared for a clik, almost unbelieving what he was seeing with his own optics. "By Primus…healthy, whole, and without any flaws to your systems."

"By Primus, my aft," Ironhide snorted disdainfully.

"Show some respect," Sunstreaker drawled out. "He _does_ have a sense of humor, you know."

Fierce blue optics glared at him, and Ironhide smirked. "Yes, I know about his sense of humor, _Sunny_."

Sunstreaker gritted his denta at the need to control belting out, "Don't call me _that_!" because he knew very well that Ironhide needed no prompting to whip out his canons.

"Nice to see you finally made it here," Ironhide's voice was calmer – for him – but still held an undercurrent of tenseness.

Sunstreaker wisely knew not to pressure the mech, and instead he simply nodded.

Optimus' voice cut through night air. "Alright, everyone, I think we have a return trip to prepare for."

"I'll go check on the human," Ratchet turned towards the direction of the office he'd left her in, activating his holoform to do the checking.

"Holoforms _and_ new humans?" Ironhide looked over at his Prime. "Since when were we recruiting new humans, Optimus?"

"We're not, Ironhide," Optimus replied with a glance in Sunstreaker's way. "She is a local who assisted Sunstreaker earlier tonight."

Sunstreaker groaned at the look Ironhide flashed his way.

"Got lost?"

Respect be damned. "No!" Sunstreaker snapped. "It's…complicated."

"Really?" The dry tone left little to be implied.

"It snowed," Sam chimed in helpfully.

"Snow?" Ironhide looked thoughtful as his systems finished booting up. His GPS was the first thing he checked. "Oh, I see. We're on the eastern side of the country and…" He looked outraged. "Is my chronometer correct? Three earth years have passed?"

"It may have been three years," Will said gently. "But Annabelle has never once stopped believing you'd be back."

Ironhide grunted.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics – a human gesture he was swiftly appreciating – and stared at the open door.

Then he heard Ironhide speaking again and almost wished he'd stayed in California.

"So you tried to combat snow in a form similar to your brother's alt?"

Again, Sunstreaker gritted his denta. "Something like that."

This time Ironhide laughed.

* * *

The wind had started up again. When she'd first stepped foot outside of the Pump House, there had been a very light wind and very light snow that had been falling. The snow that had fallen had quickly gone from being ankle deep just beyond the parking lot of the Pump House to calf high, and finally nearly knee high the further she walked.

She couldn't find the road that she had driven Late's Lamborghini on and that troubled her. The vehicle had very low to nonexistent ground clearance and she knew that the snow hadn't been knee deep when she had driven into the parking lot.

So why the fuck was it knee deep now?

Beth could only guess that she'd been knocked very unconscious by Ratchet's sleeping gas. Yet an earlier check at her phone's clock had let her know that only twenty minutes had passed. She was pissed at him for even using the stuff, though she had woken up without a headache. You just didn't do that to people, no matter how much you wanted to help them.

Despite the coldness attacking her legs, Beth was sweating under her coat. She felt a trickle of sweat snake between her breasts and wished that…She wished that she _hadn't_ left her bed.

She had made it to the railroad trestle that crossed the road and spanned the river. It wasn't the bridge that she had driven over…that was (she sighed wearily) a hell of a long way from where she was currently at. But the apartment complex was within sight. If she could just make it there, she felt certain she could hide out there. After all, it was already quarter to four in the morning. Surely there would be someone up.

A foot of snow in Pittsburgh didn't amount to too much. There would be snow plows out and those people who _had_ to be at work in the morning would be thanks to the plowing. It took a lot more than a foot of snow to stop Pittsburghers.

And Beth was one of those who _had_ to be at work in the morning. Giant alien metal robots be damned. Her boss would fire her if she didn't show up. Glancing down at her phone again, seeing what time it was, she wanted to cry in frustration. She was _so_ tired!

She slipped her phone back into her inner coat pocket and zipped it shut. Leaning against a pylon, Beth sighed out a long gust of hot air. She watched as it fogged white in the coldness and vanished.

_Kind of like a ghost_, she giggled to herself. She blew another gust of air and sighed when she watched it vanish. Beth looked around and sighed. No alien robots seemed to want to follow her.

_Good_.

Beth turned and promptly stumbled over a big rock that had been buried in the snow. She threw out a hand to try to grab at the pylon but her reaction time was crap and she fell into the snow.

For a moment she lay, sprawled out face down, in the snow. Then she pushed herself up, wiping the cold wet snow from her face and neck. Kneeling in the snow, feeling it seep coldly against her knees, Beth shivered. She blinked, stared out at the apartment complex, and sat back against the base of the pylon.

_What's the use,_ Beth thought morosely to herself. _ Even if I get to the apartment complex, who's gonna care? I don't know anyone there. I'm just fooling myself. No one's gonna be going to work today. And I can't walk home from here. It'll take way too long, and I'm not prepared to be out in this kind of weather. _

A streak of heat ran down her face and it unnerved Beth. Hastily, she wiped at the tear with a cold thumb. Her butt was going numb from the snow. Her toes and fingers were tingling, as was her nose. She knew she should get up and keep walking…but she couldn't summon the strength to do so.

She was just so tired.

Why didn't she stay in bed?

A thousand "whys" slammed into her head and Beth stifled a sob of frustration.

"Damnit, Late. Whoever you are," Beth's voice was hoarse. "Why couldn't you land on someone else's lawn? And _why_ did I have to care?"

She was frustrated that she was hot and cold at the same time. She'd love to take out her frustrations on Late's movie star face…if he was still alive.

Guilt flowed through her, shoving aside the anger and self pity.

_God, please don't let Late be dead,_ she prayed swiftly. _Don't let that alien thing have stepped on him._

She crossed herself and added a quick prayer for herself. _I know I don't pray a lot, and I rarely go to church, but please don't let me die here. Don't let some alien step on me._

Dying of hypothermia wasn't her idea way of dying. Actually simply not dying was preferable.

A sudden rumbling noise sent every hair on the back of her neck standing up. It wasn't so much a noise as a sensation. She'd felt it before when she stood with others at a parade and a drumming band went by. She'd also felt it when she stood in the parking lot of the airport.

She rose to her feet and looked back, the way she had come from, and suddenly hated having seen _Jurassic Park_. All three of the movies. Even through the slight flurry of snow, she could easily see the Pump House, though it was at a slight distance from the trestle, and she could see movement outside of it. Three of the robots had gone outside to join a tall black robot that she hadn't seen inside. The black one was weird looking, with red eyes and what looked like a waving beard on its face. Oddly enough, they all reminded her of dinosaurs, which was why she regretted seeing the JP movies. The robots were huge, and the way they moved…a slow stalking manner….

The red and blue robot and the gold one weren't there, but the other two yellowish ones were there with the new black one. Then…and her skin crawled with an unexplainable emotion…they changed their forms. The yellow ones each turned into an suv and a car, while the black one turned into a huge pickup truck. A fifth robot that she hadn't seen before, one she couldn't see very well save for its outline, was crouched on top of the tall round secondary building that was adjacent to the Pump House. Beth never was sure what that building was, but it looked like a short silo with a flat top.

She knew the brand names of the vehicles the two yellow ones were. The yellowish green one was a Hummer. The other was very familiar…it was a Camaro. She didn't know what the black one was, but it looked bigger than a Dodge Ram. The black lanky robot suddenly vanished with a slight popping noise, while the robot on the top of the silo stayed put.

To her horror, the robots that turned into the vehicles easily plowed through the snow, especially the black truck. They found the road with no problem and…

…and they were headed in _her_ direction, driving parallel to the route she'd taken through the snow covered meadow…

But maybe they'd drive past her…

She watched with progressively rising dismay as they drove steadily through the snow. As they approached the trestle, Beth hoped they'd go on by, but they didn't. The Hummer slowed first, and then the other two did. The pickup had gone a little beyond the trestle, but backed up with swift and sure motions.

It was then that Beth realized that she had strayed far to the right from the road, walking more towards the hiking trail than the road. She had been aiming for the road that went under the trestle, a structure that she'd driven under multiple times before (though she rarely gave a second look to the historic Pump House), but the snow had been deceiving and she had walked further away from the road than she had thought.

When the vehicles, the _robots_, left the road and started driving towards her onto the field she was walking on, Beth stumbled away from the pylon. She ran, slugging her way through the snow as best as she could, towards a stand of trees. Maybe the robots couldn't reach her through the trees.

Thoughts of how stupid that was stuttered through Beth's numbed mind. Hide among or beyond the trees, bare winter sleeping trees, from huge metal alien robots who destroyed most of downtown Chicago and killed thousands of humans within said city.

Yeah, _great_ plan.

But the bumpy snowy ground seemed to be slowing down the vehicles.

She thought she heard voices behind her. One seemed to sound like that Will guy.

_Oh, no __**no**__! They killed him and stole his voice somehow. They're killer alien robot things who trick other humans into thinking they're a safe thing to turn to. _Thoughts of fairytales streamed through her mind, stories of fairies who spoke in familiar voices to humans they wanted to play with…and kill slowly.

"_**Beth, stop running!" **_The voice was Ratchet's, which somehow carried clear across the snow to her.

Instant sorrow spurred her on. The robots killed Ratchet, too? Sure he was cranky and a little rude, but they didn't have to kill Ratchet!

"_**Stop running before you fall into that slagging river!"**_

_The river? I'm not near the…river… _Beth blinked and skittered to a stop. Then she saw that the snow seemed to end abruptly about five feet away.

Light bounced off of the snow. Headlights.

Beth blinked again, struggling through her own thoughts. _Headlights mean…_ Another blink then emotions pulled at her. Horror, fear…_death_…

Images of video feeds from Chicago streamed through her mind. Piles of ash that used to be people, crushed vehicles that were covered with blue tarps that indicated bodies inside, buildings that were smashed and toppled over…

How could she trust these things following her? _How_?

She looked back and saw that the vehicles had stopped a fair distance from her, maybe thirty feet or so, and that the driver's side door of each vehicle was opening, almost in unison. But familiar people stepped out of the vehicles. Will, Sam, and even Ratchet, who apparently wasn't dead.

"I'm…I _must_ be dreaming," she muttered under her breath. Had her eyes played tricks on her? Did she even see robots turning into vehicles. Maybe she hallucinated the whole thing.

And yet even as she was thinking that maybe when she hit her head that it had caused some sort of mass hallucination, the black truck that Will was standing near shuddered oddly. Lines appeared along its surface, over panels, and abruptly it split open.

She watched with wide eyes as, in the space of seconds, the truck fell apart, shifted, and resolidified into the same black bipedal robot she'd seen earlier. The robot snorted, twin jets of white fog, and tensed its arms.

Huge weapons, one on each forearm, made a humming sound.

From behind it came Ratchet's voice, "Ironhide, you were _**not**_ supposed to transform!"

"Why not?" The black robot looked irritated. "She already saw me in that building. I thought she was one of ours."

"Think again, genius," Will looked up at the robot with exasperation. "She's a civilian that helped out…one of ours earlier."

"She's the one who helped out dumbaft with his snow problem, huh?" The robot seemed to smirk – Beth didn't think that robots could smirk – and replied, "She seems smart enough."

"What do you mean she saw you?" Sam asked as he stood in front of the Camaro.

The smirk fell from Ironhide's face. "When I…came back. I saw her. She was standing there, staring at us. I figured she was…_slag_…I didn't know."

"Well, too late for keeping her in the dark," Ratchet, still out of Beth's sight, seemed to sigh. "She needs to get checked out for hypothermia. Beth, you can ride with me and we'll make sure you don't lose any of your appendages to frostbite."

"I…" Beth froze in place when the Hummer also broke apart and stood up as the yellowish green robot. The robot walked towards her and Beth instinctively scrambled backwards.

The large robot stood still. "Beth, don't go any further back. My scans indicate that the ground you are about to move on isn't very stable."

"Why….why do you sound like Ratchet?" Her mouth was dry and her throat was still sore. "And how do you know my name?"

The robot seemed to be about to say something when the huge black robot laughed. "That _is_ Ratchet."

Beth gaped at the black robot. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" For a second, Beth couldn't believe she was talking back to a huge robot that had once been a pile of dust. "Ratchet is a _man_. He's a _doctor_. He's _not_ an alien robot!"

There was a brief moment of silence before the black robot _and_ the Camaro began to laugh. Sam, who hadn't been laughing, slapped the roof of the Camaro, which silenced it, but the black robot continued to laugh.

"Oh, by Primus, that's amusing!" A split second later, all traces of humor were gone from the black robot. He stared back at the yellow-green robot, "You didn't explain about holoforms, did you?"

"I hadn't needed to until a certain aft for processors went and said otherwise!" The yellow-green robot that used to be a Hummer looked positively irate. "And if you don't silence your vocalizer, that will be the first thing I remove when we get back to base, and that's only after I weld your fragging cannons to your aft!"

"Well, I…"

_**CLANG!**_

The noise was loud and unexpected. A flash of silver had sliced through the night air and something had hit the black robot in the side of the head.

"OW!" The black robot rubbed the side of his head and simultaneously aimed one of his arm gun things at the yellow robot. "What the frag was that for?!"

"For not shutting up," the yellow robot snapped. "And there are plenty more wrenches where that came from."

Beth couldn't help feeling afraid of both robots. One had huge guns and the other had wrenches that came out of nowhere and struck with precision.

She took another step back, feeling that away was the best option.

The ground underfoot thought similarly. Away, being far away, would be a good thing to be.

Except that the ground, dirt, and rocks, didn't really have the same responses to cold that the human body did. When that sort of material hit cold water, it wouldn't care very much.

The ground beneath her feet suddenly wasn't there anymore and, with a slight gasp of surprise, neither was Beth.

* * *

"You should have gone with them."

Sunstreaker glared over at his Prime, then continued pacing in the cleared section of the warehouse. It was the same area that Ironhide had been resurrected in, the same area that he had stalked through after getting rid of Skywarp.

He had walked right by Beth and hadn't even realized it.

She had seen him, in all of his bipedal glory, and had been too afraid of him – of _all_ of them – to stick around.

"I can't."

Wisely, his Prime said nothing, though the look he gave Sunstreaker spoke volumes.

"She was…afraid, Optimus. So afraid of us that she preferred to run off and risk freezing out there than to even speak with one of us." Sunstreaker paused in his pacing, which kept him from getting too keyed up. Triggering his battle protocols wouldn't help this situation out at all.

"She has every right to be, Sunstreaker." The deep tones of his Prime's voice were interlaced with regret. "What happened in Chicago was…vile. The humans have every right to distrust us." A pause. "It will take time for them to understand that we will not hurt them. That we are here to protect them."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Might take a lot more time than the squishies have." He shook his head. "Their lives are so short. I…From what I learned about them, I don't think their trust will be acquired in a short enough amount of time."

Optimus nodded. "We will have to take this slowly, step by step. The adults might relax, but it will be their children, and their children's children, who will be the ones who are able to trust us."

The golden mech vented a sigh.

"We can start with one at a time," Optimus said. "Beginning with those we come across."

"You mean Beth, don't you?" Sunstreaker looked over at Optimus, who silently nodded. "I don't know, Optimus. I'm not the right mech for the job."

Optimus studied Sunstreaker for a moment. "I think you are mistaken. You _are_ just right for the job."

Sunstreaker would've retorted, but he was interrupted by an open comm from Bumblebee that was addressed to himself and Prime.

_:We have a situation, Optimus.:_

"Report, Bumblebee."

_:We found the human but she's running from us. Slag, I hate this snow!:_

Sunstreaker held back his laughter, knowing that he'd probably face brig time if he pointed out anything at the moment.

"Do not do anything to frighten her, Bumblebee." A pause. "That also includes you, Ironhide."

The mech in question, as the comm was open to Ratchet and Ironhide as well, grumbled but said nothing.

"If the circumstances were different, I would send you out there right now, Sunstreaker."

The golden mech looked over at his Prime. "I…"

"Understand this," Optimus squared Sunstreaker with a look. "I know that you have faced weather this inhospitable before. What I do not understand is why you seem so…fearful of it. Surely this is more than a pride issue?"

"It's more than that," Sunstreaker vented a sigh. "It's the squishies, Optimus! They're so fragging fragile. If I were to slip or fall onto one of them, it would be an accident, but the squishie would still be dead. Or seriously injured. I don't want to risk that."

A sudden peal of laughter came over the comm, which was joined immediately by Ironhide's laughing. Bumblebee's laughter stopped nearly instantly, with a muttered, "that _hurt_," from Bumblebee. Ironhide's laughing stopped as well.

Then Bumblebee's voice came over the comm again, only this time it was distressed. _:She's backing away from us, Optimus! But she's getting too close to the river and…Oh, Primus! She just fell! She fell over the embankment leading to the river!:_

_Aww slag. _Sunstreaker vented a regretful sigh. It was entirely his fault that Beth had gone through all that she did this evening, and now she was going to face a very cold and brutal death. Even he knew that organics did not do well in water that was as cold, or colder, than the air around them. And when that air was cold (for squishies) to begin with, it only boded for a shortened life expectancy for the organic.

He looked up at his Prime. "Now what?"

* * *

Yes, so, anyone reading this who is near or in Pittsburgh and if you've visited the Pump House, you know I took great artistic liberties with it. I wrote this story before I knew you could stop in at the PH to shop there. They hold a marketplace in the spring throughout early fall with all sorts of little vendors and stuff. It's neat :D But the PH is not nearly as large inside as I wrote it in this story. It's actually a bit creepy in a couple of areas where you can see down into the guts of the building. And it's not three hundred years old, either. That's Beth's mistake, not mine.

So, next up is maybe a chapter or two and then this ride is over. Sad, I know.

Oh, hey, did anyone notice the two mystery mechs in this chapter? Any thoughts on who they were? C'mon, it's easy! You already know 'em both!


	7. Chapter 7

x o x o

**Chapter Seven: An Unexpected Return  
**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Kennywood, which is a local amusement park in Pittsburgh. They do have kick ass corn dogs and funnel cakes. Highly recommended!

**Warning: **Slight cussing. It's in context for the most part and isn't anything too gratuitous.

**A/N**: Right, so, one of the mystery mechs in the previous chapter was good ol' Marshmallow Prime. When he wants to be seen, he is. He's kind of like a cat in that way.

The end of this chapter really leans more towards humor than drama. I tried for drama and it turned into humor.

Er...enjoy?

* * *

In general, falling sucked.

Falling when it was dark, you were cold, _and_ you were headed towards a river in the middle of winter truly sucked.

Beth didn't know what to do, other than to feel stupid for not having listened to the chartreuse colored robot who said that he was Ratchet. Not that she was buddy buddy with Ratchet, but hindsight proved that she should've listened to him. Instead, she had panicked and now she was falling to her doom. She tried to grab at things to slow her descent, hoping she might stop before falling into the water, but the grade of the slope was incredibly steep.

As she fell, Beth discovered that the slope wasn't frozen over. The ground was a snowy mess, with some areas being slippery with mud from slightly melted snow. She could feel the slushy snow and muck getting up under her jacket, into her jeans, and sticking where that kind of a mess had no right to stick.

And then there were the sparse population of trees and shrubs around her. As she slid, she flailed her arms around, trying to grab anything, even though there wasn't much around.

As luck would have it, she got a glancing blow from one of the few trees near her. A flash of pain hit her right arm, near the wrist, as she struck the base of a thin tree. The pain added to her panic and she scrabbled at the ground even more, even though her fingers were quite sore already.

She felt like she'd been falling forever and as she looked down, saw the river lapping at the bank she was headed for, and saw one more tree before the ground gave way to the open air leading to the river, and in desperation she reached out to grab it.

Stars swam in her vision as she made contact with the tree's trunk. Most of the trees around were scraggly, barely passable as trees, and more like overgrown bushes. Despite the pain in her stomach, to which she felt like she'd been punched in the gut, she forced herself to grab on to it and hold on for dear life. It wasn't huge and her arms easily wrapped around it. She had finally come to a stop, though her arm hurt her terribly, the left side of her face stung, and it took all she had to not pass out like she wanted to due to the throbbing pain in her stomach.

But, oh, how she wanted to.

Beth shivered as she looked back up and saw the dark streak that she and the loose ground she'd been standing on had made in the otherwise pristine snow. The hill rose up, and the edge she'd fallen from curved, almost in a banana shape.

She almost giggled hysterically at that. The hill reminded her of a banana, and the robot that dared to peek over the precipice was the yellowish one that said he was Ratchet. Then she saw Will and the black robot, Ironhair...no that wasn't right. Ironhide, that was it, was also looking over the edge.

When she tried to move, Beth hissed out in pain when her right side flared out in agony. To add to that misery, her clothes under her jacket felt like a sodden mess, and she didn't want to know _how_ injured she was. She was shivering more, which sent near continual waves of pain through her. The headache from earlier would've been welcome by comparison.

As miserable as she was, the woman felt like the dumbest person on the planet when she finally looked at her surroundings. Her eye twitched when she saw that she was on a flattened plateau that she recognized to be the new rugged walking trail. It was snow covered, but easily recognizable for what it was. She felt even dumber when she saw a chain-link safety fence that separated the walking trail from the actual edge that hung over the river.

It was an old pier, she recalled, that the city had converted into an annex of the main walking trail that edged the river for two miles. Apparently, fishermen loved the annex.

For a moment everything was quiet. She could hear the gurgling of the river, the whistle of a far off train, and the crunching of snow under the robot's feet. And she could hear them talking quietly. It wasn't in any language she'd ever heard. From how muted it seemed, they were either further away than she assumed, or they were speaking in very low tones, or she'd hurt her ears in the fall. What she _could_ hear sounded like a weird mix of fluted musical notes mixed with vaguely computerish noises. Clicks and chirrups and warbles.

Even if she hadn't seen the destruction in Chicago, on tv of course, it wouldn't be too hard to pin these robots as being alien in origin. There was nothing on Earth that could be as fluid and advanced as these things were. For what felt like forever, all she heard was her own breathing, which went from heavy deep breaths, to something more normal, interspersed with hiccups.

Then she heard Will shouting at her, and even though she didn't think she had fallen very far, he sounded like he was talking a long way off. She couldn't make out what he was saying, which made her nervous that she'd damaged her hearing. All of them, Ratchet, the black robot, and Will, suddenly backed away from the edge and out of sight.

_If the edge was so unstable, why were the robots standing there? _Beth wondered nonsensically. _Or maybe they__'__re just so tall that they looked like they were standing at the edge, though that doesn't explain why __**Will**__ was standing so close to the edge. _She let out a gasp of a laugh. _I__'__m so gonna be fired. There__'__s no way I__'__m making it to work in the morning. I'm gonna have to move back in with mom and dad. Damn._

Snow crunched nearby and Beth wearily looked to the left in the direction of the noise. She saw another robot crouching down near her; this one was the sleeker, silver robot she'd seen on top of the silo looking tower thing. He wore a visor, of sorts, over his eyes. Or maybe the visor was what passed for eyes for this robot. She was certainly no expert on alien robots from space. The lights behind the visor glowed a blue color, which seemed oddly reassuring.

"Wh…wh…who…" Beth paused to mentally curse her shivering, which made her stammer. "Who are…y…y…you?"

"I'm your way outta here," the silver robot said, and a hint of a smile was buried in a smooth, masculine tone of voice. It surprised her that the robot seemed to be male.

Beth internally cursed her brain, which seemed to be really slow. "D...did the others s...see you? Is that w..why they walked off?"

"Nope," He shook his head. "They didn't see me, but that doesn't really matter. All _you_ gotta do is stay as still as you possibly can." He gestured with his hands, which looked more like three pronged claws than hands to Beth. "I'm not as well equipped as the others, but I can get you outta here faster than you can blink."

"H…how?"

Far more gently than Beth could've imagined, the silver robot extended one of his clawed hands, which reminded her of the claw game she'd seen at Kennywood, and picked her up. She felt a bit nauseated at the movement, a bit lightheaded, and groaned.

"You're not gonna purge, are ya?"

Figuring the robot meant throwing up, Beth bit out a, "trying not to," and wholeheartedly wished she was dreaming this whole thing, but the coldness and pain said she wasn't.

"You might wanna close your eyes for this," the silver robot said, a trace of sympathy in his voice. "I have to make a jump up this little hill."

Still feeling queasy, and very uncertain at how this robot would jump up the hill she'd just tumbled down, she did as he suggested. She felt a slight jolt, and a bit of a shoving sensation, and bitter cold wind whistled over her bare skin.

"It's all good, lil chicka," the robot said. "You're safe now."

Beth opened her eyes and saw she was still in the silver robot's cautious grip. She looked around and saw the robots from earlier, along with the two humans, just _staring_ at the two of them. She saw that a third robot had joined them. This one was black and yellow. Obviously it was the Camaro. Beth could clearly see the headlights from its car form on the robot's chest.

The entire fact that a robot that big could be a Camaro was awe inspiring and also a little scary. She wondered how far the mimicry went. Was it just on the outside or did the robot turn into a car all the way?

Then the silver robot grinned in what Beth could only describe as a cheeky manner. "What's crackin…"

At the sound of the robot's voice, all of the other robots seemed to seize up and fall over with resounding thudding noises. They managed to not fall on the humans, who wisely kept out of the way of the falling robots.

Sam blinked at the silver robot. "…Jazz?!"

Then the two humans fell over, totally passed out.

"…little bitches." The silver robot, Jazz, laughed again. "Aww, I figured something like that _might_ happen."

"I t…take it th…they weren't expecting y…you?"

Jazz looked down and grinned. "Nope."

Beth grinned as well, or she tried. Her face felt stiff. "Th...that's f...funny."

The silver robot looked at her intently for a second, then gently set her down on the ground. "I haven't done this in a coupla years, so bear with me if I'm a lil…rusty."

"F…for what?"

"Ratchet'll have my aft welded to a berth if I don't keep you warm," Jazz stretched and suddenly _he_ was falling apart, into many pieces, and reforming into something far more familiar to Beth's eyes.

In nearly a split second, and in a smooth flurry of motion that was accompanied by mechanical hisses and clicks, the robot was gone and in its place was a small silver sports car.

"Meh, only off by an astroclick," the car muttered to itself. Its voice, _Jazz__'__s_ voice, seemed to come from the car and all around her at the same time. The passenger door, which was closest to Beth, swung open. "C'mon in, lil lady, and get yourself warmed up."

Beth blinked, frowned, and blinked again. "I…I don't…c…can't…"

"Too cold to move, huh? Shoulda thought of that, too," the car sighed and moved slightly in a way that reminded Beth of a shrug. "Don't freak out, okay? You've been pretty good about that so far."

"A…about what?"

A long, slender wire…tentacle…something, slowly slid from under the passenger's side of the car, and Beth jumped a bit in surprise. It reminded her a bit of one of those tentacle things from the evil octopus guy in the second Spiderman movie. Only the tentacle wasn't as fat as the movie ones.

The end of the wire had a four prong hook thing, which really reminded her of the claw game's claw thing.

_I am really not thinking really good right now,_ Beth thought dismally, then squeaked out a bit in surprise as the wire thing gently wrapped around her body, directly under her arms, and easily lifted her to her feet.

The car was perfectly balanced and didn't move at all, even though this sort of a motion should do something to the car. But no. It was rock solid.

"Duck ya head. Don't want you adding a headache to ya list of injuries."

As she was being deposited into the car, Beth did duck, just a little, and murmured out a stammered, "T…too late…"

The door closed with the same sort of solid thunking noise that Late's car did. This time when the voice sounded, it came from all around her, reverberating through her in a way that was not unpleasant. "Ya are just _too_ cute. Ya remind me a lil of Frenzy with how ya talk."

"I'm f…freezing, you j…jackass…"

"And that's what the Jazzmeister is gonna fix for ya," the sports car wasn't put off by her snark.

Beth almost sighed when she felt the warm air, not too hot though, swirl through the small interior of the two seater sports car. Instead it came out as a small hiccup, and she flushed when the car laughed. She felt a bit of a jackass herself for being bitchy. The warm air was _nice_.

"You can safely take a lil nap, if ya want."

"I…is that s…safe…?"

"You're safe here."

"N…not from y…you," Beth's chattering was easing off, but not gone. "From being c…cold."

The car was silent for a moment, and Beth's eyelids were starting to droop from the warmth and overall feeling of safety (which was ridiculous….this was a huge alien robot!),even though her fingers and toes were beginning to tingle, but it spoke again, reassuring in the words it spoke.

"I can monitor ya vitals," the car…Jazz…paused then said, "I won't let ya die."

"Th…thank you…Jazz."

The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was Sam standing up and slipping and sliding over to Will, who was also standing up.

Beth smiled.

At least they'd be okay, too.

"Ya afraid of us?"

The question surprised Beth. She opened her eyes, but the lids felt so heavy that she closed them again. Leaning her head on the headrest, she sighed. "I d..don't know wh..what to think."

"Chicago was pretty messed up, but Ah think ya need to know somethin' about all o' that before ya make a decision about us."

"L...like what?"

"Lemme tell ya the short version. It starts with tha good guys - that'd be us - who are tha Autobots. Then there's tha bad guys, the ones who fragged up Chicago, who're called tha Decepticons." Jazz paused, and a sound came from the vents of the car, almost like a sigh. "Ah wasn't there fo the events o' what happened there, but trust me, Ah was watchin'. Ah couldn't do a thing to help, but Ah wanted ta. Ah figure tha least I can do is tell ya why ya don't have to be afraid o' us."

And for as long as she could stay awake, Beth listened.

* * *

"I don't believe it."

The low words that came from his Prime's vocalizer were laced with disbelief. The tall mech stared to the right, as if looking through the walls…and maybe he was. It wasn't unusual to get an upgrade that could do just that.

"What?" Sunstreaker was still stinging a bit from the realization that he had, unwittingly, killed one of the squishies. He shuddered internally at the thought of how much brig time Optimus would give him.

Optimus frowned. "It's impossible."

"The impossible happens every day."

Both mechs turned towards the sound of the feminine voice and froze in place.

"Now this, _this_ I don't believe," Sunstreaker muttered. "Can I blast it, Prime? It's obviously not human."

The form that looked exactly like Mikaela Banes pouted and swished back a handful of long dark hair. Then she frowned when it tangled in her fingers. "This isn't as easy as it looks." Shaking her fingers free of the long strands, she looked up at the two mechs. "You should know better by now, Sunstreaker."

"Yeah, yeah," Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "You have a sense of humor."

This time she grinned. "You got it, Sunshine."

"Primus?" Optimus started to crouch down, but the small femme shook her head and he stopped.

"Not necessary," and with that she hovered to optic height with the Prime.

Full of exasperation, Sunstreaker vented heavily. "Is this insanity ever going to end? Or should I figure that Starscream is going to stop by with a fruit basket and an apology card?"

"Starscream and a fruit basket? And an apology?" Eyes turned to him and Sunstreaker realized that they would not be out of place on a Cybertronian. They were gold in coloration, a true metallic glowing gold, not a yellowish color found naturally in some organic species on Earth (or unnaturally if contacts were used). The apparition disappeared and reappeared directly in front of Sunstreaker. "_Surely_ you jest."

Sunstreaker took a step back, almost knocking over a stack of boxes in the process. He flung a hand out to steady the boxes and glared over at Primus and his Prime. "_Seri_ously?"

"Seriously," Primus parroted back just as mockingly, if not more, then disappeared to reappear in front of Optimus. "Yes, I sent back both of them."

"Why?" Optimus nearly stammered, but eons of habit kept him from doing so. "I am extraordinarily grateful for Ironhide, but Jazz as well?"

"Jazz?" Sunstreaker was at a loss for words.

"Yes, _Jazz_," Primus rolled his shoulders, sending a shimmering wave of stick straight hair falling back. "Don't look into it too much though. I had my reasons for sending them both back."

"But…."

"Much like this form, they were as irritating as the Pit," Primus shook his head. "This form is so tiny and annoying. If it wasn't for the fact that I'd blind you both with my own glorious form – which is far more perfect than yours, Sunstreaker – I'd shift back. However, this form is not without its pros, for an organic, that is."

"Being a squishie is irritating as the Pit?" Sunstreaker blurted it out before he could stop himself.

"You wanna find out?" An evil glint shone in Primus' optics. He waggled delicate, slender fingers. "I'm game…"

"_**NO!**_" Sunstreaker nearly shrieked, then composed himself. "No, no, _**thanks**_. I'm fine as is."

"Aww," Primus pouted. "You sure?"

"YES! I'm sure I do NOT want to be a squishie!"

"Bleah, boring." Primus looked over at Optimus again. "As I was _saying_, the two of them were irritating enough on their own. Ironhide was all 'blah blah blah, I want to shoot something, Sentinel must die by my own hands not Optimus', and Jazz was all 'Bitches be trippin, why the frag did Soundwave chose a car as an alt instead of a flight mode' as he was lounging in my hot tub."

Optimus blinked.

Sunstreaker remained silent.

Primus sighed. "I didn't glitch the two of you, did I?"

"No," Sunstreaker squeaked out. "Just…trippin…"

Primus laughed. "Thank me I had two of you made." Another sigh. "I must've been trippin that day myself."

"Primus, with all due respect…"

"Don't fret about it, Prime," Primus said, cocking his head to the side. "Jazz and Ironhide are both as sane as they were before they died. They're both as strong, if not stronger – let's face it, Jazz needed help – than before they died. I did steal Jazz's body from storage, so don't try looking for it. It won't be back on Diego Garcia. I stole Jazz's body as much as I stole Ironhide's dusty rusty remains and brought them here."

"Why the treasure hunt?" Sunstreaker blurted out, then wanted to bash his helm against something hard. _Again with the stupidity!_ He thought angrily to himself. _Sideswipe__'__s gonna __**help**__ Ratchet weld my aft to the medbay ceiling__._

"Ah, I see someone's been referencing the humans' internet," Primus grinned. "So clever of you!"

Sunstreaker held back a glare. Barely, that is.

The still hovering Primus-looking-like-Mikaela sat, in midair, in a lotus position. "Suffice it to say that I wanted all of you to be as irritated as I was. I almost succeeded."

Sunstreaker thought back on all that happened to him this very evening and almost blew a gasket. "Are you kidding me? With what _I_ went through?" He sputtered, which was utterly uncharacteristic of him, and only wished he could lash out. "It took forever to get into this solar system, I crash landed in the parking lot of a squishy sparkling school, I barely had any time with my twin, and I was blocked off from everyone, from my own _**twin**_, and to top that off a squishie died because of me! Because of _**you**_!"

"Sunstreaker," Optimus said in a warning tone.

"No, it's okay, Optimus," Primus smiled sweetly at Sunstreaker. "So you were more worried about the squishie than your own aft? Even _I_ can see the scratches you got from that guardrail."

"This isn't entirely about the Pit bound scratches," Sunstreaker snarled. "It's about a squishie that was so afraid of _us_ that she ended up drowning in a freezing cold river!"

"Yeah, she also hurt her hand and torso on the way down," Primus said nonchalantly. "And suffered some frostbite prior to that tumble down towards the river."

Sunstreaker nearly saw red at that. "How dare you mock her like that."

Primus' grin grew. "And how dare you care for a squishie that Jazz rescued."

"Yes, that Jazz res…" Sunstreaker's verbal tirade ground to a halt. "He…he _what_?"

"Oh yes," Primus nodded. "They're all outside right now." He tilted his head a bit. "The others are rebooting now, and the other humans have recuperated from their fainting." He looked over at Prime. "I kept them from suffering hypothermia _and_ frostbite, thank you very much."

"You did that for them, but not her?" Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Primus. "Why?"

"Actually," Primus chuckled. "It hadn't dawned on me _not_ to. I was kinda enjoying the show."

Cue more seeing red. Optimus actually dashed over to control Sunstreaker. "Restrain yourself, Sunstreaker. Jazz has already commed me and let me know that Beth is safe within his alt mode." And he truly had. The comm channel from Jazz, which had been silenced by his dark brother, had been reestablished and a mech's voice had never been more welcomed to his audios.

Sunstreaker stalked off towards the doorway of the building, muttering things about "Unicron" and the possibility of him "needing a new recruit" under his proverbial breath.

"He's…I mean…I'm sorry that…"

Primus held out a hand to shush the large mech. "Enough, Optimus, I know he means well. He'd never admit it, but he cares for the human."

"Can you do anything about her injuries?"

"I could," Primus said thoughtfully. "But would it accomplish anything?"

"Sunstreaker would be less likely to fire on you with his cannon…" Optimus trailed off at the Look he was getting from Primus. "You are correct. Nothing would be accomplished."

"I placed a dome of warmed air around your humans, Optimus," Primus explained, hovering closer to the large mech. "I cannot heal injured humans. If she were a Cybertronian, yes, I could help. But she is human. Anything I did to help her would more than likely harm her, or end up with really crazy results. I don't think you're ready for that…yet." He paused, then said, "You do have someone on your team who _can_ help."

"Ratchet," Optimus said softly. "He will help her."

"Exactamundo." Primus stood, still in midair, and stretched. "And now that this chat is over, I have one more place to visit before I go Home."

"Primus, wait…"

Shining golden optics fell on Optimus. "Yes, Orion?"

"Was everything that happened in Chicago…destined to be?"

Primus sighed. "Most of it, yes. The human death count? Ironhide dying? Other mechs dying? No. Those were not meant to be."

Hope rose in the Prime. "Then others could be brought back?"

"You bet your sweet aft," Primus said. "There are others who are not yet ready to stay with me. And _I__'__m_ not ready for them to stay with me, either."

"When…"

"You want the direct approach or another…" He motioned around him, "…this?"

"No more treasure hunts," Optimus all but begged. "It was a good distraction, but…unnecessary."

Primus chuckled, a light airy musical tone, and then he said in a language Mikaela's vocal cords could never replicate, _/Don't try to deny it, Optimus. You know you had fun./_

And with that, the human looking Primus vanished, leaving only the echo of the language of the Primes to echo in the building.

"So, where'd he go?" Sunstreaker asked sullenly. "Off to cause more trouble?"

"Sunstreaker!" Optimus snapped. "Watch it. Primus has…"

"A sense of humor," Sunstreaker said wearily. "I know, I _know_."

And when he turned to go back towards the exit, Optimus had to hold back a gasp of amused and somewhat surprised air intake from his vents. A large piece of paper was stuck to Sunstreaker's back.

Written in Cybertronian were two words: "**KICK ME****"**

With quick strides, Optimus followed Sunstreaker, casually tearing off the paper as he did and subspacing it. "Let us find the others."

It was then that they both heard Sam shrieking like a girl.

"**_MIKAELA_**!"

* * *

If there was one thing that Beth Galen knew it was that weird stuff tended to happen and the least opportune times.

But when she blinked open her eyes that morning, the last thing she expected was to see a grumpy looking cat staring at her.

Beth blinked, unmoving, and wondered if she was dreaming.

Princess Fuzzy Butt, who was laying on her chest, leaned forward and licked the side of Beth's nose in a rough sandpapery kitty kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that said, "I've just eaten all of my dry food. Refill my dish, puny human."

Beth groaned and shoved the cat off of her chest and immediately froze. Her annoyed feline meowed in an annoyed tone of voice and jumped off of the bed. His human servant merely stared at her right wrist, which was professionally wrapped in a lot of white gauze.

Another thing that dawned on her was that she was still in last night's dirty, mucky clothes, laying on top of her comforter, and covered by a light blanket.

_So what happened last night__wasn__'__t a dream?_ Beth's foggy mind was fast clearing up as a whirlwind of images assaulted her brain. Snow, hot guys, robots…_alien_ robots that were freaking huge but apparently _not_ the bad guys from Chicago.

Jazz had told her they weren't the bad guys from Chicago. They were the good guys who had been trying to stop the bad guys. He'd told her that, or maybe he thought she was asleep and he had rambled on, or maybe he knew she was not fully asleep and told her anyway.

Other things came to mind. Namely how she had fallen down that embankment. She cringed in anticipation of pain to come as she slowly sat up, but was surprised when there was none. Yet, she knew that she had hit a tree pretty hard, and she knew she hit the back of her head at least once. She was surprised she didn't have a concussion or something. There wasn't even a headache.

She looked over at her bedside table to see what time it was and simultaneously groaned and was surprised. It was a Monday morning, 6:45, and she'd woken up just before the her alarm clock was normally set to go off. She had to be at work at 9:30. She had been surprised to see a prescription bottle and an envelope with her name on it, which were next to the alarm clock on her night stand.

First thing first, she looked outside and felt a brief wave of wistfulness and irritation. Sure enough, it hadn't been a dream.

Late and his Lamborghini had definitely gouged out part of her lawn.

Her landlord was going to _love_ that.

* * *

The envelope had contained a letter, printed out, from Ratchet.

"Of course it has to be printed out," Beth muttered to herself as she reread it for the tenth time after feeding the Princess. "He's a freaking huge alien _robot_. It's not like he could write me a handwritten note."

The letter had been direct and to the point, much like the medic Beth had known for that short amount of time. It had instructed her to take the painkillers, one tablet every two hours, with bottled water. Not tap water. Due to Jazz's thoughtfulness, she hadn't succumbed to frostbite and her exposed skin had gotten the gradual warm up that it needed.

"…_because there__'__s only so much I can do to help you with your pain as your body heals itself. If you decide to not follow my directions, you__'__re on your own. Know that if you __**do**__ decide to be that foolish, I won__'__t be responsible for the pain that will surely render your dumb aft useless and in need of certain hospitalization__…"_

The letter had gone on, of course, but the short and sweet of it all was that the pills would keep her pain to near zero as her body healed. Apparently there were all sorts of goodies in the pills that would help her body to heal a little faster than it normally would. It also explained the lack of pain in her torso (which, according to the letter, was severe bruising but nothing punctured or broken), wrist (slight fracture), and head (luckily there was no concussion). Without the pills, she would definitely be in the hospital for a bit.

The one phrase that stood out to Beth was one of the many warnings from Ratchet.

_Do __**not**__ let the pain get ahead of you._

Beth drank down the last of her hot chocolate and finished packing her lunch. Even though she really wanted to stay home, that was the very last thing she could afford to do. Her boss had been on the warpath lately, firing at the slightest provocation, and there was no way she could afford to lose her job. To do that would mean giving up the dream of owning a Camaro (which would be going back at the end of the week when her Contour was finally repaired) and moving back in with her parents.

It had been awkward, but necessary, to take a fast shower after she'd gotten out of bed. Though she felt incredibly embarrassed at the thought of all the dried mud on her person, it was also irritating to shower with one hand. Figuring it was safest to be practical, and also because she hadn't known if she could get her bandaging wet or not, she had showered with her right hand out of the water. After a fast blow dry and style, she had been ready to leave. At least the weather had warmer temperatures on the forecast, so a skirt wasn't impractical to wear today.

Her house key had been dropped through the mail slot on the door. When Beth had stepped into the foyer on her way to the kitchen, it had struck her as oddly comforting to see the key in a slumped pile on the floor. The keychain it was attached to was a simple black and purple braided cord. Absently, she wondered who had carried her into her house. Sam or Will? Ratchet? All three?

She flushed at that thought. Not that she thought that anything had happened, because she'd seen the ring on Will's finger, but it was still weird to be carried into your house by a total stranger while you were passed out.

It was possible that Ratchet had helped them, being a doctor and confidential and stuff…but no, Ratchet was a huge robot. She could still remember him grabbing her shoulder. How could Ratchet be a robot _and_ be a man at the same time?

Nothing about any of that made any sense.

Then she wondered about Late. She hadn't seen him since they had arrived at the pump house. Was he okay? _Who_ was he? How did he fit in with the robots? For that matter, why were Will and Sam with the robots?

Deciding that it was more important to get to work, though hardly as interesting, Beth put all thoughts of robots and strange guys out of her mind.

Not seeing her parka, Beth sighed and rummaged through her coat closet for her backup winter coat. The red wool peacoat she picked offered minimum cold protection, but it wasn't as if she was going to wander through snow again and…

Her _**cellphone**_.

Beth's face paled and she did a quick run through the small house. Nothing, nothing, nothing….

Then she felt a flash of triumph when she spotted her phone in her bedroom. It was on the nightstand, of all places, but on the other side of her alarm clock, plugged into the recharging cord.

Unplugging it, dashed for the kitchen to put her lunch into her tote bag, and then Beth left her house and, broom in hand, swept the majority of the snow off of the car before pulling the cover off of the rental. There was a small flurry of snow on her and the car (she mainly had the cover on to avoid ice buildup), and she quickly balled up the cover and put it into the rubbermaid container in the trunk. In the week that she'd had the Camaro, she had taken to folding the cover, but she had no time to do that.

Opening the front door to drop the broom inside, Beth looked around once more before shutting the door and locking it. She ran back to the rental car and got inside.

The Camaro greeted her with a fantastic whiff of new car smell and Beth sank into the driver's seat with a sigh. She was seriously going to miss this car.

The road had recently been both plowed and salted, which was definitely a transformation from last night. There was mainly slush on the asphalt, which was easily navigated. Even for Late.

_Late, you jackass,_ Beth thought ruefully, looking over to eye the mess his car had made. _If the grass is ruined, there goes my deposit._

The engine rumbled to a start and Beth popped on the defrosters. Counting herself smart for having backed into the driveway, she pulled out slowly after the defrosters did their job and drove down the street.

Not for the first time that day would Beth wish that she could call off.

* * *

Unlike the night, the day had progressed painfully slow. The majority of her coworkers had sympathized with her injury, her boss had ignored her, and the day had dragged by. Beth dutifully took her pills, though it was more out of fear of pain than anything else.

She had a feeling she'd rather deal with Ratchet than her primary doctor. At least Ratchet knew how she'd been injured. She wouldn't want to have to make up a story to a doctor. She could fool her coworkers easily enough with a story about falling while shoveling snow. She doubted she could fool a doctor.

During her lunchbreak, she debated on calling her landlord to let him know what had happened, and decided against it. Mr Fellowes was a mean little man with a serious superiority complex, but he had great rental properties at rates she could afford. She didn't want to get the stink eye from him over something she had no control over. Belatedly, she wished she had gotten Late's contact information, just in case there was any damage she needed to report. Hindsight sucked.

It was on the drive home that she wondered about the pills Ratchet had given her. She hadn't been tired at all during work, yet she had barely gotten any sleep. Sure she had gone to bed at ten, with anticipation of the snow storm, but Late had woken her up around 1:00 and they'd gotten to the Waterfront at about two. All of the stuff that happened seemed to take another hour, and she had no idea when she had fully passed out in Jazz.

The thought made her blush a little, and she scolded herself. Then she became curious. If these alien robots could so seamlessly take on the appearance of vehicles and planes, there was no limit to the number of them that could already be here. They seemed to take on appearances of flashy cars, if the Camaro and truck forms the others had used were any indication.

For a moment, she wondered about the rental Camaro, then shook her head with a snort.

_I__'__m not that lucky,_ she sighed.

It wasn't until she'd backed into her driveway, and was sitting in the cooling off Camaro, that she wondered again.

This time about a different, though far more flashy, vehicle.

Could the Lamborghini…

Could _Late_ be…

"No," Beth finally decided, as she got out of and closed the Camaro door. Walking around to the trunk to snag the rental's cover, she tossed it over the vehicle, securing it for the night. "There's no way _**that**_ is even a possibility."

The young woman thumbed the lock button on the remote and went inside, locking the door behind her. For a moment she leaned against the locked door and sighed, then the dark haired young woman shook her head. "That guy as an alien robot? He'd drive 'em all insane. _And_ he has a twin? Double the huge alien robot terror that is Late? Besides, what alien robot that turns into a car can't drive in the snow?" Beth chuckled weakly. "Yeah, right. Dude's _definitely_ human."

* * *

_tbc...?_

* * *

Yay, Jazz is back! Who doesn't like some Jazz in their lives? So, Jazz is back, Ironhide is back, Starscream is...maybe back. Who knows? Skywarp could've just been messing around with Sunstreaker. Who knows _what_ goes on in Skywarp's mind? I mean, it's not like he blurted out Starscream's secret without meaning to, right? Right.

And that's the end of this story. I hope you didn't mind too much of Beth at the end. The removal of "Really Freaking Huge ALIEN Robots!" from the ending was quite intentional. You know…kind of a getting back to reality kind of thing for my OC.

Beth is my first OC, so please let me know what you thought of her. Have you seen enough of her, or would you like to see her again?


End file.
